


Tattoos and Traps

by ZoomsFics



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Choking, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, My First Fanfic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14069877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoomsFics/pseuds/ZoomsFics
Summary: Alternative Universe - Soulmates and Soulmate Identifying Marks“Stop ignoring me!” She screamed at the Trapper. “What is wrong with you!?” She ran in front of him again, but he threw her down into the corn with one large hand.Meg rubbed her face of dirt and got up and after him again. She grabbed onto his arm and he roared, raising his weapon to strike her. Meg flinched hard and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. Though it never came. She cracked her eyes open.“Stop following me if you know what’s good for you,” said the Trapper. His voice was deep and full, dominance dripping off of every word. She tightened her grip on his arm. Meg’s eyes widened and the Trapper cursed at himself. She knew now, she had to.“It’s you… you’re my soulmate…”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "By the pricking of my thumbs,  
> something wicked this way comes."
> 
> \- William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Meg was sitting at the campfire once again, after just being tortured in another trial. Around her sat Dwight, David, and Jake, Bill, and Quentin who were all tending to their quickly healing wounds. She wasn’t sure where the other survivors were, but she assumed they were probably taking part in a trial of their own.

Everyone was silent and minding their own business because the last particular trial had been especially painful. During it, Meg had just finished repairing one of the generators in the backyards of Haddonfield and satisfied with her work she turned around and found herself face to face with Michael Myers and his emotionless white mask. He made quick work of throwing her over his shoulder and hanging her on a hook.

Meg had been the first to die, but guessing by the looks of the other survivors, they probably hadn’t been too lucky as well. It was no secret that Myers was a brutally efficient killing machine.

Jake was being silent as usual, and Dwight was trying to sew up a gash in David’s arm. For some reason the Entity would heal large wounds when it took them back to the campfire but left the smaller ones unhealed. Dwight usually took it upon himself to help the others with their wounds.

“Fuck mate, that hurt!” David swore when Dwight accidentally pricked him with the needle.

“S-sorry David… it was an accident.” Dwight said in his usual nervous tone and bit his lip. Meg wished that Dwight would stop following David around like a lost puppy and go help someone who was less of an asshole.

Out of boredom, Meg instead took to looking at the words imprinted on her arm like a tattoo. _Stop following me if you know what’s good for you,_ was written on her forearm. The first words that her soulmate would say to her. She would think it was ominous but considering what her life was now, the sentence was nothing. She had hoped all her life that someday she would find her soulmate, whoever that may be. But, ending up in this nightmare immediately snuffed out her thoughts of finding them soon after.

The reason why she wanted to find her soulmate so bad was because she didn’t want to end up in a marriage like her mom and dad. Her parents hadn’t been soulmates and look what her dad did! He left when Meg was born!

“Jesus Christ! You have the clumsiest fingers ever you dumb bloke.” David groaned.

Meg had enough of his complaining. “David, don’t beat him up he’s just trying to help you. Stop being such a prick for once and be thankful.” She groaned back at him.

“It hurts a fuck ton though!”

“Toughen up then.”

“Yeah dude,” Jake chimed in. “Meg’s a girl and she has a deeper scream than you. Claudette as well.” Meg smirked at Jake. Claudette was known to be the timidest of the group, and that insult must have gotten deep under David’s skin.

Dwight’s face reddened slightly at the comments about David and continued his work. David just glared at Meg and Jake and decided to say nothing.

Eventually Meg decided that she was bored of David giving her a death glare from across the campfire and she decided to go venture a little bit into the forest to go get some sleep before the next trial. She wandered around aimlessly for a while before she found a good spot next to a tree to curl up under. Almost immediately she fell asleep and dreamed of the words, _stop following me if you know what’s good for you._

***

“M-Meg! Meg, wake up.” Someone was jostling her from her sleep. “Another trial is starting, w-we gotta move.” She sighed and opened her eyes. She was met with Dwight’s horrified face looking down at her. Sure enough, there was a generous amount of fog swirling around the two, which signified that the trial was about to begin. Meg jumped to her feet and Dwight grabbed onto her dirty red vest in fear. Soon they were transported into the trial through a swirling blanket of fog.

               Strangely, Dwight was still by her side, but Meg wasn’t exactly sure where they were.

               “Do you know where we are Dwight?”

               “Uh-um, the MacMillan Estate, I think.”

               Meg took a quick look around to take in her surroundings. They were next to a groaning storehouse that looked like it was about to crumble to the ground any second. Broken red brick walls littered the area and Meg even saw a large rusted bear trap on the ground. It was closed.

               “A bear trap?” She asked.

               “Y-yeah, I guess that means we are up against the Trapper.”

               Meg didn’t like the sound of her ankle being cleanly bitten through by a Tetanus ridden trap, so she kept her eyes glued to the ground as she followed around Dwight. Soon after they found a generator and got to work twisting and turning its gears. Another generator popped in the distance.

               “That should keep the brute distracted for a while.” Meg muttered and Dwight nodded enthusiastically. Very soon after the pop of the generator however, the pair heard a sinister scream in the distance, a high-pitched scream of a man. It was David.

               Dwight gasped and got up from repairing the generator. Meg immediately grabbed in arm and pulled him back down.

               “He’s going to be fine, Dwight. Don’t worry. We gotta stick together if we want to make it out of this alive.” She pleaded.

               ‘B-b-but David! I don’t want to him to get hurt.” Dwight blubbered in between worried breaths.

               “He’ll be _fine._ If he gets hooked we’ll go over there and patch him up. I promise. But first, let’s get this generator done while the Killer is busy.” It had been a bit of a cruel thing to say, but Meg couldn’t be bothered with that asshole. He could fend for himself after being so rude at the campfire. She just wished that Dwight could see past his good looks as well.

               “Okay…”

               Soon enough, the generator popped and Dwight was eager to get moving towards David’s position, although there had been no other screams or signs that David had been hooked. They silently crouch walked around the estate for what seemed like and eternity, until they heard someone’s muffled whimpers in pain.

               They rounded a corner and found David propped up against a wall, with a deeply cut and bloodied ankle.

               “David! Oh, what happened?” Dwight gasped and ran over to him, cupping his face.

               “I stepped in one of ‘is bear traps, but it’s nothing,” He said in pain while trying to swat away Dwight’s hands from his face. “I’ll be fine. Jus’ get me patched up mate.”

               “Doesn’t look like nothing…” Meg said and rolled her eyes. Dwight pulled out a few bandages and started on working on David’s ankle. Meg kept an eye out for the Killer as another generator popped in the distance. Good, only two more and they could escape this hellhole.

               “Who else is with us David?” Meg asked.

               “Bill… we did the first generator together and then the bloody fucker ran away after the genny popped and left me for the monster.”

               _What goes around comes around,_ Meg thought as she remembered the countless times that David himself had ran away from her after alerting the Killer.

               “T-that sucks, you got us now though!” Dwight said happily as he finished bandaging David’s wound. “Here, it’s done.”

Dwight pulled David up from his position on the wall and was rewarded with a pat on the back that simultaneously made him blush and almost be knocked to the ground. “Thanks mate.” David said cheerfully.

The glee was soon wiped away when they heard another scream in the distance. Bill had been hooked and they could see his aura from across the estate. The trio soon jumped into action and started to move across to Bill’s location. As they made their way closer, the hairs on Meg’s neck stood up and her heart started to race, signalling that the Trapper was near. She continued to sneak when—

“Meg! Watch out!” Dwight hissed and pointed to the ground. Sure, enough there was a loaded trap waiting in the path of her next step.

“Thanks.” She let out a shaky breath. She glanced back down at the trap and an idea popped into her head.

“You guys, I’ll set off the trap to distract the Trapper, while you two go and save Bill.” She suggested.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes! Now hurry! Wait till you hear the snap of the trap and then grab Bill.” She hissed back. David didn’t have to be told twice. He grabbed Dwight’s wrist and dragged him towards Bill’s position hastily. They soon disappeared into the fog.

Meg looked at the rusty trap, deciding how to go upon triggering it without destroying her hand. Her heart was beating quickly. As soon as she set it off she would have to make a quick exit. She reached out her shaky hand, and swiftly pressed down on the middle of the trap and yanked her hand out before it’s iron jaws could snap onto her wrist. A raucous _snap_ could be heard in the air. Meg wasted no time and quickly sprinted away and hid behind a low wall.

Unsurprisingly, the Trapper made his way quickly towards the source of the noise. Against the pleas of her ever-quickening heartbeat, Meg decided to take a peak around the wall and get a look at the Entity’s henchman.

The Trapper was an enormous man to say the least. He was extremely tall, and muscles covered his arms and neck. His arms were covered in blood almost up to his elbows and he was holding a giant meat cleaver in his hand (also covered in scarlet blood). His right shoulder had a huge piece of metal sticking out of it, almost like he himself had been put on a hook, and then escaped with it still in his shoulder. Deep wounds were all over his body, like they never got the chance to heal.

Meg tilted her head further out, to get a better look at the Trapper while he was still facing away from her. His hulking form got down on one knee and grabbed the bear trap. He stood up and turned around quickly. Meg managed to get one quick look at the Trapper’s face before ducking down behind the wall again. He had a torn-up mask with tiny creepy eye holes in it, and a huge smile that looked like it had been haphazardly made. She wasn’t sure if he had seen her or not.

She pressed her body against the wall and used one hand to cover her mouth so the Trapper wouldn’t hear her laboured breaths. However, she felt her heartbeat accelerating as his heavy footsteps made their way over the wall. He must’ve seen her when he turned around!

 _Oh, shit oh shit oh shit… think, think, think Meg._ She decided that she was going to wait until the last second before she sprinted away from the wall. She was fast. Hopefully she would be able to make it away before that meat cleaver made a home in her spine.

She felt his presence. He was right next to the wall. Her heart was racing.

 _3… 2… 1… NOW!_ She jumped out from behind the wall and started to sprint away. If he hadn’t seen her before, he must’ve seen her now. But he hadn’t struck yet which meant she was going to make it!

 _WHAM!_ A massive amount of pain made itself apparent in her back, and Meg screamed but kept on running. Somehow, she managed to speed up after being hit. She glanced behind herself and saw that she was gaining space between herself and the Killer. Now to find either Bill, Dwight or David to help patch herself up.

She ran for a little while longer and decided to hide next to a generator and catch her breath. When her heart slowed down and she deduced that the Trapper was far away enough, she started to work on the generator.

Another scream was heard in the distance, but she kept working. Soon after she saw another aura of one of her friends being hooked. Despite the pain, she forced herself to her feet and started to move towards the position.

She could hear Bill’s cries of pain from the hook, but she didn’t want to just run out there with reckless abandon. She could feel the Trapper in her heart. He was near. But then again, Bill probably didn’t have much time before he was sacrificed to the Entity. Meg decided to take a chance and run.

She reached Bill’s hook and went to grab from him.

“No! You… you gotta l-leave…” Bill said between pained grunts.

               “It’s fine, I’m gonna get you out of here!” Meg said while trying to unhook him.

               “No! Leave silly girl!” He screamed. “B-behind you…”

               Meg was suddenly yanked away from the hook and plopped on a strong shoulder. “NO!” She shrieked and pounded her fists on the Trapper’s back. As she was being carried away she saw Bill be impaled by the Entities spider-like limbs and dragged into the sky to be sacrificed. Meg started to cry. She didn’t feel like trying to wiggle out of the Trapper’s grasp anymore.

               The Trapper found a meat hook and hung her on it. The immense pain of being hung of a meat hook through her shoulder never seemed to lessen every time she got hooked. This time was just as bad as any other time and she wailed in pain. What made it worse was that the Trapper was just standing there in front of her, watching her.

“What are you looking at, you sick freak!” Meg screamed as he looked at her like she was a broken toy. Despite the pain, Meg managed to kick the Trapper in the gut from the hook, although it didn’t really do any damage. He just looked at her, seemingly frozen in place.

               “Go on, don’t you have anything else to do other than stare! Keep staring and I’ll fucking kill you!” She screamed at the mountain of a person.

               The Trapper slowly backed away from Meg’s dangling body without turning around. He soon disappeared into the fog, leaving her only companions to be the full moon and the ever-present pain in her shoulder. She decided that it wasn’t worth the risk to try and remove herself from the hook, as it would probably put her into an early grave.

               After hanging there for about five minutes while pathetically whimpering in pain (although she tried not to), she saw someone in the distance. It was Dwight. He ran over and unhooked her just as the spidery limbs were about to start trying to impale her.

               “Thanks Dwight.” She sighed in relief.

               “N-no problem.”

               “Anything happen while I was hooked?”

               “Uhm… you know what happened to Bill… a-and I’m not sure where David went. Still two generators left as well.” Dwight produced some bandages and started to work on Meg’s shoulder.

               After he finished bandaging her shoulder, they quickly found a generator. It popped quickly soon after. Meg expected the Trapper to quickly make his way over to the recently finished generator, but surprisingly he was a no-show. They moved quickly through the high grass.

               “Just one more!” Dwight whispered in glee.

               They found another half-finished generator hidden behind a couple of trees, and they speedily started to fix it up. They were almost finished fixing it when a shriek was heard not so far away.

               “D-David!” Dwight yelled. “Meg we gotta go help him!”

               She grabbed his arm. “Dwight, think rationally. The Trapper will probably camping him. Let’s take this time that David has given us and finish the generators,” She said gravely. Dwight sniffed sadly.

               “Come on, let’s finish this up and get out of this dump.” She encouraged.

               “Okay…”

The generator popped and they were on their feet sprinting towards the nearest gate as David was sacrificed. It felt mean to leave him for dead… but David needed to learn his lesson.

Meg could feel her heartbeat quickening, but luckily, they got the gate open and ran toward the exit.

Dwight was the first to leave. Meg glanced over her shoulder before stepping out of the arena and saw the Trapper standing at the front of the gates. He wasn’t trying to make a move to attack her… he was just standing there menacingly.

 _Creepy,_ Meg thought as she ran away to go meet her friends at the campfire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trapper discovers something shocking. This is kind of like the first chapter, but from the Trapper's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.”  
> \- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

              The Trapper sat around the campfire waiting for the next trial to begin. He had not been doing so well lately and could not wait to get back out into the trials again. The other killers in attendance were the Hag (chewing on _something_ ), the Wraith (petting his weapon made of a spine and skull), and the Shape (glaring at the Trapper through the holes in his mask). He refreshed his mental note to keep an eye on the Myers fellow, he was as coldblooded as he looked. The Trapper didn’t like the company of the other killers, but at least most of them talked, unlike the Shape.

               He ripped his eyes away from the masked man and focused on cleaning his bear traps. They were deadly, sharp and ready for any survivors to step in them. The Trapper had spent hours repairing them to make sure he did as well as possible in the trials and so the Entity would be pleased with him once again.

               The Trapper smiled in delight as thick fog swirled around him, a signal that the trial was about to begin. He was dropped off at his home, the MacMillan Estate.

               He quickly got to work setting bear traps around the Estate. One underneath a window, one next to a hook and another in a thick area of grass. He heard a generator pop in the distance and marched over towards the sound.

               The Trapper found the finished generator and followed the red scratches on the ground that originated from it. They indicated that a survivor was running nearby. Soon he caught up with the one they called David. The fighter with a girlish scream. The Trapper pushed on, fueled by his blood lust and desire to hear the man’s screams.

               He hit David in the back with his meat cleaver and the man cried out in pain. But, just when the Trapper was going to hit David again, David threw down a pallet on the Trapper’s head causing him to grunt in pain. He had been so close!

               The Trapper roared in rage when he couldn’t find David again. He stomped around in anger until he found another man, this one older than David. Somehow the older man did not hear the Trapper coming. Bill was ripped away from the generator by strong arms and thrown onto a hook. The Trapper breathed menacingly next to Bill’s face as the old man cried out for help. He turned away from the hook and went hunting for his next sacrifice.

               Just then, he heard the snap of one of his traps. But oddly enough it wasn’t followed by a shrill scream. He followed the sound and found one of the traps he had placed at the beginning of the game. But it was closed with no prey caught in it.

               _Curious…_ the Trapper thought to himself as he got down on one knee and picked up the trap. Once he got back on two feet, he turned around and saw a girl’s face peeking over a low brick wall.

               Meg, he remembered her name being. The fast one. The Trapper felt a rush of excitement every time he chased after he, and then pride if he was able to catch her. Out of all the survivors, he loved her screams the most. They were the kind that made most people’s blood run cold, but to the Trapper her screams made his body sing.

               He slowly crept over to the low wall with measured steps. When he got close, the girl sprinted away, but not fast enough because the Trapper managed to hit her in the back. She screamed and the Trapper shuddered in satisfaction. Unfortunately for him, the burst of speed she gained from being hit made her run too fast for him to catch her and force more screams out of those pretty lips.

               Another snap was heard in the air and the Trapper’s day got even better. He rounded the corner and found Bill stuck in his trap. He grabbed the old man harshly and threw him on the hook again. The Trapper decided that he would stay nearby just in case a survivor tried to rescue Bill.

               As predicted, a survivor ran past the Trapper’s hiding spot and towards the hook. It was Meg again, trying to save the old man. The Trapper sprang from his spot and grabbed the girl just as she was getting Bill off the hook.

               “NO!” She shrieked and pounded on the Trapper’s back as Bill was sacrificed. The Trapper smiled to himself and threw her on a hook, licking his lips when the screams of pain came. He took a moment to admire his prize writhing on the hook, trapped with no place to go. She moaned in pain and he felt his cock stiffen in interest at the noises. Something that hadn’t happened to him in a very long time.

               “What are you looking at, you sick freak!” The Trapper’s arousal ran cold at the sound of those words. He glanced at those same strange words written in black ink on his forearm since the day he was born. The words that never faded no matter how bloody and damaged his skin got. The first words that his soulmate would say to him. “Go on, don’t you have anything else to do other than stare! Keep staring and I’ll fucking kill you!” she yells at him and he freezes. Meg was his soulmate.

               _No… please… not now,_ he thinks. As a young man, Evan MacMillan hoped that one day his soulmate would appear to him, say those damn magic words, and then he would be happy. But as he grew older and less patient, he forgot about his soulmate all together. Never would Evan had thought that his soulmate would appear to him _here_ of all places, while he was torturing her and drinking up the sounds of her screams. He felt like a sick freak after all.

               This was worse than any torture that the Trapper had ever taken at the hands of the Entity for behaving poorly. He wanted to pull her off the hook, but instead backed away from Meg. She deserved so much better than him, than a monster. The Trapper ran into another clearing and fell to his knees on the ground.

               While he sat on the ground, Meg was released from the hook. He did not care. The Entity started whispering in his ear for him to kill but he did not care. He sat. He never wanted to see Meg again, and hopefully he would never have to be in a trial with her in the future. She could never know that they were soulmates. Never.

               All he had ever wanted in his past life was to find his soulmate, and now he had. But there would never be a chance for the relationship to develop. The Entity wouldn’t allow it. The other killers wouldn’t allow it. Would Meg even allow it? He was terrifying to say the least, probably not at all what she expected out of her most compatible partner. All he felt was anger. Frustration. Confusion. Loneliness. 

               A man ran into a clearing. David. The Trapper looked up at him, then looked away when their eyes met. The Trapper hoped that the man would just leave him alone, but he had no such luck.     

               David took a step forward to test the waters. His pulse spiked but he didn’t run from the Trapper. David found it odd to see the monster sitting on the ground like this, masked head in his hands, instead of hunting for Dwight, Meg and himself.

               “What’s wrong you tosser? Given up ‘cause you can’t find any of us, hm?” David taunted. The Trapper growled low in his throat, a warning to David to stay away. He just wanted to be alone.

               “I’m right here for the takin’. Come on, get up you piece of shit!” David yelled and took another step forward. It was kind of unnerving to David to see this heartless monster that murdered them everyday on the ground looking like he was going through a crisis.

               David took another step forward and the Trapper roared. The beast grabbed onto David’s neck before he could slip away, and David found himself slammed against a tree with a terrifying mask in his face. David wheezed as the Trapper howled. 

               “That’s… more like it…” David croaked.

               “ _Shut. Up._ ” The Trapper’s deep voice bellowed. David squeaked in fear, a killer has never spoken to him before. He didn’t think they could.

               David was thrown on a hook and left for dead. The Trapper sat back down with his back against a tree. One generator popped, then another. He did not care. David died. He did not care. He only got up when he heard Meg and Dwight powering up one of the exit gates.

               The Trapper walked over to the gate and saw Meg looking behind her as she escaped. She had a perplexed look on her face. The Trapper sighed in defeat as he was left behind in the arena. He had hoped to do better, but with today’s discovery… he felt himself change. Two kills would be enough to satisfy the Entity for now, he hoped. But how was he going to deal with Meg?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Trapper is a very angry man :( poor David lol  
> Anyways, that's what I've got so far, but more to come soon!!
> 
> Have a great day :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and the Trapper meet again and Meg makes a surprising discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within."
> 
> -Sigmund Freud

Another couple of trials had passed since Meg’s incident with the Trapper. David had told her about his weird encounter with the monster and Meg had told her story in return. In that time, she had escaped from the Nurse, got sacrificed by the Doctor and narrowly escaped with her life from Leatherface. Once again, Meg found herself being transported into another trial via the swirling fog.

               This time she was alone. She was back at Coldwind Farm surrounded by cornstalks in a field. Meg made quick work of finding a generator and fixing it. It popped in no time at all and she heard her heartbeat rise in anticipation of the killer’s arrival.

               The heartbeat started off slow and built up as the killer got closer. That meant that it couldn’t be the Huntress because there was no singing before the heartbeat. It couldn’t be the Shape or the Nightmare either. As she crouched in a thick area of cornstalks she tried to figure out who the killer might be. The Wraith? The Nurse? The Doctor?

               The Trapper tromped through the corn and found the offending generator. He growled at himself for being too slow to find the person who repaired it. Meg shrunk back into the corn and held a hand over her mouth.

               The Trapper started investigating the area for any signs of where the survivor might have gone. The Entity started to whisper in his ear. _Kill, my pet… they are near…_ it murmured in his ear, and the voice was not at all human. The Trapper launched into action, tearing through the corn stalks to find the survivor.

               Meg squeaked and backed further into the corn. The Trapper got closer and closer to Meg’s hiding place and then ripped open the stalks of corn to find she was hiding beneath. Meg was faced with a furious Trapper with his meat cleaver raised to kill.

               The pair both froze. The Trapper with his cleaver raised, and Meg with her hand over her mouth. Nobody moved. The Entity stopped whispering, as if it did not anticipate the two seeing each other again.

               After a beat, the Trapper huffed, then lowered his cleaver and left. The corn stalks slapped Meg in the face when he let go. Her heartbeat went quiet as he moved away from her. Meg had never been so confused in her life. The Trapper’s job was to kill, no? Then why was he not doing just that?

               “Hey! Wait!” Meg cried and dashed out of the corn. The Trapper was quick but Meg was just quick enough to keep up before he disappeared into the fog again. She ran up to his heels then around him so she was in front of him. “Hey!”

               He didn’t stop. Just pushed her out of the way and continued on.

               “Stop ignoring me!” She screamed at him. “What is wrong with you!?” She ran in front of him again, but he threw he down into the corn with one large hand.

               Meg rubbed her face of dirt and got up and after him again. She grabbed onto his arm and he roared, raising his weapon to strike her. Meg flinched hard and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. Though it never came. She cracked her eyes open.

               “Stop following me if you know what’s good for you,” said the Trapper. His voice was deep and full, dominance dripping off of every word. She tightened her grip on his arm. Meg’s eyes widened and the Trapper cursed at himself. She knew now, she had to.

               “It’s you… you’re my soulmate…” She said and the Trapper bristled. He took his arm out of her grasp and turned away from her. He started to stomp away, but then stopped when he heard her voice.

               “Please don’t leave. I know this probably won’t work out, but just give me a few minutes. I just found you and now you’re leaving.” Then barely a whisper. “Please.”

               The Trapper shook his head. Why did she want him to come back? Monsters don’t get happy endings with pretty girls. But still, he turned and went back to her. She flinched out of instinct when he was close enough, and he tried to ignore it. She reached out and took his arm, the one that bore the tattoo with the words _what are you looking at, you sick freak_. She traced the words lightly with her fingers. The Trapper tried not to move in case he scared her away.

               When she was done tracing his gnarled skin, the Trapper reached down and took her arm. She quivered but the touch was so gentle that she stopped in surprise. He took his turn tracing her soft skin, his fingers brushing over the words _stop following me if you know what’s good for you._ The Trapper made a noise that Meg could only describe as a chuckle.

               His other hand slowly set itself on her hip, still with a gentle touch. He let go of her arm for a second to pull up the mask on his face slightly, just enough that his lips were showing. He took her arm again and brought the tattooed words to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss on the writing. Then another, and another. Meg let out a little gasp. A generator popped in the distance, but the Trapper ignored it. He wanted to make whatever this was last, because he was sure that it would not happen again.

               He finished kissing the words and moved to her hand, kissing every knuckle carefully. Taking note of how tender the skin was. The way her lips made a small ‘O’ in surprise at the gesture. How her touch felt like electricity against his skin, making him feel more alive than as long as he could remember. He wanted to treasure the feeling for later. For when she realized that he could not provide her with what she wanted. Being kind was a gift he did not have.

               Suddenly, a flashlight shone in the Trapper’s eyes. The light blinded him for a moment and he let go of Meg’s arm. When he regained his sight, Meg had vanished. It was probably for the best.

               Claudette had a tight grip on Meg’s wrist as she pulled her away from the Trapper. As Meg and Claudette ran through the corn fields, Meg could still feel the kisses that he had left on her hand.

               “Are you alright?” Claudette asked once they were far away enough. Meg was still in a daze and didn’t answer. “Meg!”

               “Huh, what?” Meg said.

               “I asked if you were alright! It looked like that creature was going to take a bite out of your arm! I couldn’t really see because of all the corn but I’m glad that I came just in time!” Claudette said with wide eyes.

               Meg sighed in relief. She didn’t see what he had been doing to her. Meg vowed that none of the survivors would ever know about the Trapper and Meg’s… situation. Nobody would approve, both survivors and killers alike.

               “Yeah… I’m fine,” Meg breathed, “I was sure that the Trapper was going to take a chunk out of me. I was totally frozen. Thank you for the save Claud, truly.”

               Claudette smiled. “We have to stick together! I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”

               “Yeah, of course.” Meg replied, hoping that Claudette left the conversation at that. Apparently, Meg had been a good enough actress to fool Claudette because the dark-haired girl didn’t press on, instead she asked her what they should do next.

               “Let’s find a genny and see if there’s anyone else around to help.” Meg suggested. Claudette agreed and the duo moved towards an unfinished generator.

***

               The trial had been a mess. There was no other way to describe it. The Trapper had offered an Ivory Memento Mori to the Entity and killed Claudette once she had been taken off a hook. Meg started crying that the sight and could still feel the tear tracks on her face. She was furious with the Trapper for murdering Claudette so cruelly! The other two survivors, Laurie and Jake, had not been so lucky either. Both were dead now and Meg was left bleeding in pain, hidden in a locker. The Trapper hadn’t gone after her really but she did step in a bear trap, and her leg was dripping with sticky blood.

               The Trapper came by and Meg wasn’t sure if she should have come out of the locker. Was she and the Trapper on good terms or was that show of affection a one-time thing? She could barely hold back her grimaces. Surely, he had heard her.

               The Trapper ripped open her locker and threw her on his shoulder. Meg sighed and didn’t fight. There was no point. Three generators left and nobody alive. She hadn’t found the hatch either unfortunately.

               The Trapper stopped and set her down delicately, and next to the hatch too. He came close and put his hand on her cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. Although she was still furious over him killing Claudette, Meg leaned into her soulmate’s touch.

               “Sorry about your friend. Lost my temper.” His deep voice said. There was no pity in it though.

               “You murdered her. How could you?” Meg spit. He lost his temper because Claud shone a flashlight in his face. _What is he a child?_ Meg thought in exasperation.

               “It’s what had to be done. It’s my job.” He said plainly.

               “Oh, fuck off! You are s—“

               He interrupted her by grabbing her by the neck and squeezing, picking her off of the ground. He brought her face to his, so close that she could see his snarl through the twisted smile in his mask. “Listen here girl. This thing,” He pointed to his soul mark, “Doesn’t make you or your friend any more special than all the others. I might get in a lot of shit for letting you go.” He squeezed tighter and she grabbed the hand around his throat, scratching weakly. “I should kill you for being an ungrateful bitch.”

               He dropped her to the ground and Meg gasped for air. The wound on her ankle screamed. _I should have known this would have happened_ , she thought as the Trapper looked down at her in anger.

               “Don’t expect this kind of mercy from any of the others,” He said, and with that he walked away into the fog. Meg sat for a minute and caught her breath, then jumped into the hatch.

***

               When Meg found herself back at the campfire, Claudette rushed over to her with a worried expression on her face.

               “Did you escape?” Claudette asked eagerly.

               “Yeah… through the hatch. It was a close one though.” Meg said, thinking about the Trapper’s huge hand on her neck. So strong…

               Claudette gasped. “What happened to your neck!?” She pointed towards a littering of bruises along Meg’s neck. Bruises that looked like a thumb and four fingers from a very large hand.

               Meg lied to Claudette’s face. “He grabbed me by the neck before throwing me on his shoulder. I managed to wiggle out of his hold and find the hatch.” Meg hated lying to her friends. Lies beget mistrusts and mistrusts beget poor teamwork. Survivors needed to stick together if they wanted to live, but this was a strange circumstance.

               “You got lucky then. These are bad bruises but they’ll heal quick. The Entity doesn’t like it when the killers don’t play fair if you can believe that.” Claudette said. Hopefully that was true. The Entity made sure that none of their injuries lasted outside of the trials, so the bruises should disappear quick.

               Meg sighed and made her way into the forest. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She curled up against her favourite tree and let the tears fall. How could she have been so stupid? The Trapper was a murderer through and through. Meg wasn’t sure why she’d expected him to change. A soulmate was all she had ever wanted, but the pair’s outcome looked grim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I felt bad with the second chapter 'cause it was kind of short, so here is the next one.  
> Have a nice day :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how this story had a masturbation tag? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) let's watch our big bad trapper fall apart.

The Trapper woke up in a sweat. His whole body felt slick with it. His cot in his shack suddenly felt too small as well. Trapper wanted to use the time off the Entity had given him for snagging three survivors for some well-deserved rest, but obviously his body had other plans. He had been dreaming of Meg, though he only remembered faint bits of what had been happening.

               “Damn it,” He cursed quietly and rubbed his face with his hands. A flicker of arousal went up spine to go alone with the fleeting images his mind was creating. Something that he was sure he would never feel again.

               “Damn it!” He punched the wall. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, there was no room for this kind of behavior in his lifestyle. The others would notice how he had changed. The Entity would notice. It would make sure to remove any sort of mercy from the Trapper, then kill what caused it. Meg. He couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t fair to her.

               But why did he care about what happened to her all of a sudden? If she was gone it would certainly solve his problem. The Trapper groaned and wiped a bit of sweat from his neck. He hated that stupid girl with her fiery red hair and bright blue eyes and perfect lips and delicious screams. But at the same time, he desperately wanted to trap her in a corner and kiss her until the terror in her eyes turned into awe.

               Everything felt covered in sweat and his dick was throbbing in his uniform. He gasped at the pressure. For so long he had felt nothing, and now this was just too much. He needed to get rid of this feeling. Better to feel nothing than everything at once.

               He ripped off his overalls with fervor, exposing his broad but scarred chest. His cock sprang free in excitement and the Trapper let out a small sigh when the pressure subsided a little. He grabbed his dick and started pumping roughly, letting out a loud moan at the contact. He tried to imagine that it was _her_ hands on him, not his own rough fingers riddled with callouses.

               The whole room felt like it was on fire. Sweat poured off his skin in rivers. He started thrusting faster into his hand at a pace that almost hurt.

               The Trapper’s imagination took off. He could almost see Meg walking into his shack with her hands on her hips, her lips tightened and eyebrows furrowed at the sinful display. “ _I would never touch you like that after what you did to me.”_ She said. He gasped again, and his cock oozed a bit of pre-cum to the sound of her voice.

               _“Pathetic,”_ He could almost hear her say. “ _Just hearing my voice makes you come undone like a teenager.”_

“Yes!” He groaned and squeezed the base of his cock. He felt so ashamed of himself, but his imagination didn’t care. He was rutting into his hand with little finesse, trying to get this over as quick as possible. The cot shook beneath him.

               “ _You’re disgusting. An ugly monster._ ” The imaginary Meg growled. “ _I hate you._ ”

               A soft whimper escaped his mouth. “Hell, you’re so heartless. Don’t you want to give me a hand here?” He said through gritted teeth, with his eyes shut so tightly.

               “ _No._ ”

               He was so close and the cruel Meg that his mind created was only making him see stars. He bucked his hips wildly and thrusted a brutal pace that was not meant to last. “W-why not?” He pleaded.

               “ _Just look at you. You’re tugging at yourself with undisciplined desperation. Why would I ever want to lay a hand on you? A vile man who can’t control himself.”_ She snarled.

               “Please, touch me!” He begged the imaginary Meg, feeling himself go red in the face. Please was something he hadn’t said in _ages_. The Trapper relished being in control, of the survivors and of other killers if needed. Other people begged for mercy from _him_ , not the other way around. He was the one in power, yet he was losing all semblance of control and begging to his passing fantasy.

               “ _No. Finish on your own.”_

               He came embarrassingly fast. His vision went white and his cock twitched. The breath was knocked from his lungs. He might’ve screamed. He lay there for a few minutes, although it could have been hours, feeling completely spent. His release felt fantastic, but as he sprawled out in his cot he could still only think about her.

               He opened his eyes after what seemed like an eternity and grabbed a rag to wipe off all the sweat and cum from his chest. Some had even landed on his neck. When he was done he threw the rag in a corner and sighed, letting himself lay there exposed.

               There was a knock at the door.

               The Trapper scrambled to put on his clothes. He almost jumped out of skin when he heard the noise.

               Another knock, then a voice. “ _Hellooooooooo_ …? Anyone home?” It was the Doctor. It was hard to make the Trapper uneasy, but the Doctor made him feel downright nauseated.

               The Trapper sat up abruptly. So much for well-deserved rest. “What?” The Trapper growled, and his deep voice laced with a no-nonsense kind of tone.

               “Ah! So there _is_ someone in there!” The Doctor said, with a few high-pitched wheezes.

               The Trapper groaned, he just wanted Carter to _leave_. “What do you want?”

               “Well, I was just passing by when I heard some disturbing noises coming from over here. Some moans, a yell, then… well then nothing. Would you know anything about that?”

               The Trapper froze. What if he had heard? What if he had heard the ‘ _please, touch me_ ’ or the cries and whimpers? The Trapper was the most feared killer, and to be caught with his pants down (literally) would make him laughing matter among the other killers.

               “No. I wouldn’t.” The Trapper lied, still not bothering to get up and open the door for his uninvited guest.

               “Interesting… because I was sure that I heard something coming from this very shack! Maybe I’m just losing my mind, which wouldn’t be all that shocking.” A little giggle escaped the Doctor’s lips. “Ha. Shocking. Haha!”

               The Trapper made an unimpressed noise and waited for the giggling to stop. “Haven’t heard anything Doc.” _Now fuck off,_ he thought.

               “Okay,” the Doctor said with a huff.

               There was a brief moment of peaceful silence. The Trapper was happy that the creepy man had gotten bored of him and decided to stick his nose elsewhere. Preferably in the Hillbilly’s chainsaw. The Trapper chuckled at the thought, but then his mind wandered back to Meg.

               Suddenly, a wheezy voice. “So, who were you thinking about?”

               The Trapper almost spit. “ _Excuse me?”_

               A giggle. “Who were you thinking about when you were… how should I put it, handling business?”

               The Trapper paused. “Nobody. It’s none of your business,” He said carefully.

               The Doctor poked his head through an open window and laughed again. His white eyes and wide grin practically glowed with madness. He cocked his head to the side and scratched his back with his weapon. “This nobody couldn’t have been Lisa, ‘cause _pleaaaase._ She’s a sweetie but… no. And not Sally either, because we don’t even know what her face looks like and she screeches horribly. Maybe this nobody was Anna, but isn’t she taller than you? No-no-no that won’t do.” The crazy man rambled on and on, and the Trapper wanted to strangle him.

               The Trapper growled. “This is not a discussion.” 

               “Or was it a man? Michael has a pretty impressive physique and the whole ‘you can look but not touch attitude’. Or… perhaps a survivor? Now that would be shocking!” The Doctor said with another bout of giggles. 

               “Do you ever stop talking?” The Trapper said, deciding that he’s had enough of this weird conversation. He got out of his cot and exited the shack, not bothering to see what the Doctor was doing.

                The Doctor was still hollering after him. “The girl with the red braids seems like your type. I wouldn’t judge if you were thinking about her! Okay, maybe a little.” Another giggle.

               “Leave me alone, Herman,” the Trapper snarled and shoved him to the side. There was no way the Doctor knew about him and Meg, but it still made his stomach lurch when he had mentioned her.

               “ _Relaaaax_! I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just different behavior coming from you is all!” The Doctor called after the Trapper, but he didn’t care. He stomped away from the Doctor in rage. Even when he was back at the campfire in the company of the other killers, the mocking giggle of the Doctor rattled around in his head, threatening to reveal his secret to the others.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg wanders deep into the forest.

The survivors were sitting around the campfire, doing basically nothing. Meg was picking her nails out of boredom. Claudette, who was sitting beside Meg, was gathering herbs that grew around the fire. Dwight was bandaging another one of David’s wounds and Nea was stretched across a log, in what looked like a pretty uncomfortable position.

               “Mate, I wish I had something to drink! Even the rubbing alcohol from a med kit would be fine, but Feng dropped our last one in the trial I just got back from.” David groaned.

               Claudette sighed. “You can’t just drink rubbing alcohol David.”

               “And why not?”

               “Rubbing alcohol is made of isopropyl alcohol, not ethyl alcohol that’s in the stuff we drink. _Duh_.” She retorted.

               David snorted. “Yeah duh, how could I forget?” He said with sarcasm. “Well, I’ll take my chances, can’t die in this place anyways. Can’t be arsed.”

               “You do that buddy,” Claudette giggled.

               “Just gotta find a fucking med kit first. Quentin’s probably got one somewhere, the bugger’s always hiding things away.” He laughed.

               Meg wasn’t really interested in the conversation going on but rolled her eyes at David anyways. She was preoccupied with looking at the tattoo on the inside of her forearm again and thinking about the man who said those words. How he had been so gentle and then so awful in such a short span of time.

               Claudette stopped collecting herbs and turned to Meg. “Did you ever find them?” Claudette asked softly.

               Meg blinked and an image of the Trapper’s hand on her throat came to mind. The bruises on her neck had faded but he didn’t seem to be fading away from her thoughts. “No, never met them.” Meg lied.

               Claudette frowned. “That’s a shame, I didn’t either.” Claudette took a look at Meg’s arm. “ _Stop following me if you know what’s good for you_ , huh? They sound like a real catch.”

               Meg let out a choked laugh. “Well then, what does yours say?”

               “ _You’re pretty_.” Both of them burst out laughing.

               “ _Smoooooth_ ,” David said with a chuckle. “I never found my soulmate neither, but I think I found someone even better.” The man ruffled Dwight’s hair and the nervous leader turned a deep shade of crimson. The girls smiled brightly at the two. Everything seemed at ease, that is until Nea spoke up.

               “I think that the whole soulmate thing is a load of shit.” Nea said from her position on the log, with her eyes still closed. “I met my soulmate when I was out tagging a building one night. She was a fucking police office. Let me off with a warning out of pity, and I only saw her one other time after that night.”

               Meg hated talking about what life was like before they came to the Entity’s realm. It made her miss her previous life so much that it hurt in her chest. She longed to see her mother again, or breeze past other girls in a race at a track meet. Nea's story just made her heart ache.

               “Just having the stupid mark doesn’t guarantee anything, you gotta make sure there’s a bond or your mark fades away. Mine’s basically nothing now.” Nea held up her left arm and Meg saw the almost faded marks. Meg looked at her own mark.

               “T-that’s too bad Nea,” Dwight said and his cheeks were still a bit red.

               “I’m gonna go for a bit. Get some sleep. Maybe find a med kit for David.” Meg said suddenly and Claudette gave her a confused look.

               “Are you okay?” She asked with a concerned tone.

               Meg felt her nose prickle and eyes start to water. She begged herself not to cry in front of the others. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

               Meg wandered through the forest, tears blurring her eyes. She felt stupid for crying over the Trapper again, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to end up like Nea and her soulmate.  Lost in her thoughts, she found herself deep in the forest. A little metal shack partially hidden amongst the thick trees was located in front of her.

               Meg wiped her nose with her sleeve and moved toward the shack. Sometimes the Entity created these little dwellings around the forest. If the survivors were lucky, they might be able to find items like med kits or flashlights that they could use in the trials. Meg hoped that she would find something useful for either herself or someone else during the next match. Or maybe she would find a first aid kit for David.

               She peeked through the window and gasped at what she saw. Standing at a small wooden table inside the shack was the Trapper. His overalls were pulled down and tied around his waist so his broad back was revealed to her. Open wounds were scattered around the cracked skin of his back, dripping dark blood. He was hunched over the table, completely different from his usual proud stance.  _Of fucking course it’s him,_  she wanted to scream.

               Meg backed away from the window into a pile of leaves that crunched beneath her feet. Not even two seconds later the door to the shack burst open and a very irritated Trapper stood in the doorway. Meg froze with her eyes wide as a dinner plate. The Trapper stared back at her, his mask unreadable as usual. 

               “I-I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll be going now,” Meg squeaked. Never had she seen a killer outside the trials. She wasn’t sure what the Trapper might do now that they weren't playing cat and mouse for the Entity. There weren’t any rules. Would he kill her now? Grab her by the neck and squeeze till no breath came from her body and finish the job?

               The gigantic man cocked his head to the side slightly, and noted the tears staining her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” He growled and took a step forward towards her. He wanted to rip the arms off the person who did this to her.

               Meg took two steps backwards. “No reason, it was stupid. Just something someone said.” The Trapper didn’t seem convinced and took another step forward, which Meg responded with another step backwards. The two stared at each other. Now that he was closer to her, Meg could see many more cuts and scars that littered his chest, many of which were still bleeding. In some places it seemed that there was more scar than skin layering over his thick muscles.

               “Why are you bleeding like that?” Meg asked softly.

               He shrugged.

               Meg almost pitied the man. Did he not have anyone that could help him heal his wounds? For sure the glass and metal pieces that survivors stuck in the killers must hurt, and it just seemed plain sad that the Trapper would just leave wounds like those to bleed and scar. She took a few brave steps towards him. “Let me help you.” She said and strode past him into the shack.

               Meg scanned the small room to see if there was anything that could aid her. A large first aid kit sat beneath the small table, and she grabbed it and placed it on the small cot. The Trapper loomed in the doorway with his head tilted in curiosity. She was trying her best to act with confidence, but really her hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped the med kit. A mantra of _this is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid,_ was all that was running through her head.

               “Sit.” Meg said and pointed to the bed. “Away from me.” At least if he was facing away she would have a head start on him if he decided to get angry again.

               The Trapper moved slowly toward the bed. He didn’t want to make sudden movements, lest he’d scare her away. He sat down on the other side of the bed so his back was facing her, letting himself be exposed to her. She pulled up a stool behind him and gazed at his back. _She probably thinks I’m hideous,_ he reflected but all his thoughts jumped out the window when he felt the pads of her fingers touch him softly. He felt his skin shiver.  

               After assessing him, Meg took her hands off of him to open the first aid kit. She grabbed a clean rag from inside to put pressure on a bleeding cut on his shoulder. When she was satisfied, she pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured a little on another rag. “This might sting a little, okay?”

               She pressed the cloth against the cut and the Trapper grunted and jumped a little. She traced her fingers along the scars on his back to help him calm down. The man let out a tiny sigh, those wandering fingers were driving him nuts. Meg placed a square bandage over the wound.

               They continued on like this until all the bloody cuts were covered by bandages. Applying pressure, a “this might sting,” a soft sigh and then a bandage. Over and over until the Trapper’s back was covered in so many little white bandages it was comical.

               “Turn around,” Meg said and the Trapper swung his legs over the bed so he was facing her. She moved the stool in between his legs and looked up at his mask. Through the dark holes she could barely see his eyes, which were a deep brown. She smiled timidly and got to work on his front. Just like his back it was heavily scarred. He had strong pectorals which led to a muscled abdomen and a trim waist.

               When she was applying butterfly stitches to a particularly deep wound, he moved one big hand to rest on her knee and started rubbing circles on it with his fingers. “Hold still, I don’t want to mess this up,” she said, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. The hand stopped moving but lingered.

               “Okay, I’m finished,” She said and took her hands off the bandages. The hand on her knee went back to tracing circles. “Most of these won’t need bandages on them for long, but the deeper cuts will. Remember to change them from time to time.”

               He didn’t thank her (although she didn’t expect him to), but when she made a move to stand up his hand tightened on her knee. “What is it? Need a kiss to make it better?” She chuckled when his grip loosened. “Here,” she said and took the arm that bore his soul mark. She pressed a kiss to the writing much like he had in the trial. “All better?”

               “Stay,” he said, finally speaking. It felt wonderful to have somebody look after him and he had enjoyed basking in the kindness that seemed to seep from Meg’s body and touch everything in sight. He didn’t want to let her go, to feel empty in her absence.

               “I can’t… the others are probably wondering where I am.” She said and stood up, then packed the med kit and put it back under the table.

               “Come back here later, after your next trial then.” He demanded harshly and paced over to Meg, using his large arms to block her off on either side. She turned to him and almost jumped because he was so near. “Tell me you’ll come back.” His face was close to hers now, and she could feel heavy breath on her neck.

               She traced a thin scar on his stomach to soothe him and let her other hand fall on his chest. “Yes, I’ll come back. Right after my next trial. I promise.”

               He growled in her ear, “Good.” The he backed away and moved to open the door for her.

               She passed by him and through the door. “Goodbye Trapper.”

               He watched her go, hips swaying slightly as she walked. He swallowed thickly and spoke out, just before she disappeared into the trees. “Evan,” he said, hoping that she had heard him.

               She stopped walking and turned around. “What?”

               “My name is Evan,” He said. "Not Trapper."

               Meg smiled at him shyly, and Evan felt his heart lurch. He felt a rush in telling someone his real name. None of the other killers or anybody here knew his real name, perhaps save the Entity. He smiled back at her beneath his mask, although she probably couldn’t see it.

               “Bye Evan. I’ll see you soon.” She said, and he felt his smile grow even wider.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Meg meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I haven't updated in over a week, I have just been busy with a lot of things. Here's a new chapter, my teeth almost rotted while writing this one, it's so sweet.

Meg kept her promise and went to go see Evan after her next trial. She had just been up against the Hag, who had absolutely destroyed the four survivors. Meg wasn’t very good at spotting the bewitched drawings that the Hag scattered around the map. Not to mention the phantasms that appeared when the drawings were triggered scared the hell out of Meg every time. The trial had been tiring, and Meg almost didn’t have the energy to wander into the forest to find Evan. But she wanted to keep her word, not only because it was generally rude to break your promise, but because Evan had been so intent on keeping her there with him the last time.

               So, Meg told the other survivors that she would go for a jog because she still had a lot of energy after the trial, and then ran into the woods. Claudette had given her a suspicious look but just told her not to stay away from the campfire for too long.

               Meg quickly found the decrepit little shack in the deep parts of the forest and knocked on the door softly. “Anyone home?” The door swung inwards revealing the Trapper, who took up most of the doorway. “Hello Evan,” Meg said and he felt his heart jump in his chest.

               “You came,” He said.

               “Of course I did, I promised I would didn’t I?” She laughed and slid her hand down his arm until their fingers were loosely entwined.

               Evan looked at their hands, “Yes, I guess you did.” He ushered her into the shack, then took a long look at the tree line before shutting the door.

               “Expecting someone else?” Meg asked as she took a seat on the small stool from before.

               “Just making sure,” He said quietly and pulled a tattered drape over the window. Meg noticed that when he walked over to cover the other window, that he had a slight limp.

               “Are you hurt?” She asked and stood up from the stool, offering an arm to help him.

               He brushed her aside gently, “No, I’m fine.”

               “You’re not fine, you have a limp.” Meg insisted. “What happened?”

               Evan heaved a great sigh and sat down at a workbench next to a table with piles of scrap and unfinished bear traps. “Stepped into my own trap,” He said. He expected her to laugh or call him an idiot but her face softened slightly at the words.

               “Let me help with that,” She said and went to retrieve the med kit. She moved aside a bear trap and placed it on the work table. Evan took off his boot and rolled up his pants, revealing a nasty wound on his ankle. It was oozing blood. Meg got to work cleaning and bandaging his ankle while he watched through the dark holes in his mask.

               Once she was finished she also made sure to check the other wounds on his back and chest. His clothes were covered in blood, and it took her a while to it wipe away from his skin. She assumed that he had just come back from a trial of his own. The bandages seemed intact and nothing had reopened. She stood up, “I’m done.”

               Evan made a move to go near her, but she stopped him and said, “No, get changed first. You’re not coming near me while you’re covered in blood.”

               He huffed in annoyance but got up and went to a little cupboard at the edge of the room. Meg turned around to give him privacy while he changed. She put away the med kit and pretended that the wall was very interesting to avoid looking at him. She saw one long leg in her peripheral and tried not to stare.

               Once he was finished, Evan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, rocking the both of them slightly. Allowing himself some comfort in this dark realm. He rested his head on her shoulder and took a deep breath. “Under all that tough skin, you’re just a big softie aren’t you.” Meg said playfully.

               “Only for you,” He said in a low voice and nipped her earlobe lightly with his lips. Meg let out a small gasp because she hadn’t realized that he had pushed up the mask. Evan took it as a green light to continue, and he kissed the shell of her ear then moved onto her neck.  His rough lips sending shivers through her body. He teased her by grazing his teeth along her jaw eagerly.

               “Evan…” She sighed when he bit down onto her neck.

               “Good?” He asked and turned her around in his arms, then immediately put his face back in the crook of her neck.

               “Yes,” She said breathlessly, and he started gently guiding her backwards until she was up against the worktable.  He grabbed her legs and hooked them around his waist, so he could place her on top of the table with ease. Another bite on her neck made her moan out his name. Meg put her hands underneath the black shirt that he had changed into and felt the hard plains of muscle of his stomach.

               His lips unlatched from her skin and he pulled away to take off his shirt. He made sure not rip it on the pieces of metal sticking out of his arms and shoulders in his haste. Meg took off her sweatshirt as well, leaving her top half bare except a white bra with a tiny bow in the middle that Evan thought was cute. She squirmed a little under his gaze.

               “So pretty,” He said and leaned in again to bite her collarbone. “And all mine.” Meg keened. She wanted to kiss him so desperately, to feel his lips on hers without the stupid mask in the way.

               “Evan?” She asked softly as he was sucking a mark onto her clavicle.

               “Is something wrong?” He said. “I can slow down.”

               “No, no you’re perfect, but can I just…” She trailed off and reached behind his head to pull off the mask.

               Evan stiffened and pulled back suddenly, leaving the space between her legs empty. “No. Don’t do that,” He said harshly and turned away from her. Fixed his mask. Meg sat on the table dumbfounded.

               “Why not?” She asked and got up.

               He paused for a second and contemplated his words. “You won’t like what you see. I’m... unsightly.” He shook his head.

               Meg came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She lay her head on his broad back. Pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I bet you that’s not true,” She comforted.

               Nothing was said for a while after that, as Meg held him. A crow cawed in the distance. Evan thought things over in his head. After some time, he took her hands off him softly and sat down at the workbench. Then he put his hands on the straps of his mask and moved to take it off.

               “Wait. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Meg said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

               “No, it’s fine. I want this… being together. If it means taking this off for you, then I will.” He said. And he meant it. The reason he wore the mask was to put distance between himself and the trials. He was a different person with the mask on, why be a different person around Meg? He pulled it off in one quick swipe and looked up at her, expecting a negative reaction.

               The first thing Meg saw was his eyes. A set of dark whiskey brown that were so expressive, no wonder he wore the mask. She could see everything in his eyes. Maturity and seriousness but hope and warmth as well. The skin on his right cheek and temple was marred with scars, so many that it was uneven and bumpy. There was a deep cut that ran across his lips as well.

               “Oh Evan,” Meg murmured. “This doesn’t change anything.” She put a hand on his damaged cheek and felt the leather-like skin. She set herself on his lap, feeling bold enough to straddle him. Evan put his hands on her bare waist to hold her in place. He was stunning to Meg. His face, his body, his unanticipated gentleness towards her. In another daring move, she put her mouth to his ear and said, “You’re such a liar, saying that you’re ugly. Just telling me that to make me feel better about myself, huh? You’re the pretty one.”

               He groaned faintly.

               Their faces were close to each other’s now and Meg’s hands were on his cheeks. His breath was tickling her face. She leaned in and touched their lips together tentatively.  Meg kissed softly and carefully but Evan wasn’t looking to be careful. He pulled her hard against him and bit her lip roughly. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, tenderly but with a purpose. She moaned into the kiss.

               She felt his fingers hover over the clasp of her bra and she broke the kiss to undo it for him. She threw her bra across the room. Evan growled in approval and bit her neck hard enough to bruise, leaving a trail of marks down to her breasts.  

               Evan toyed with the waistband of her leggings. She moved to take them off when someone yelled in the distance. “Meg! Where are you?”

               Meg jumped out of Evan’s lap and gasped. “How long have I been here? I have to go back.” She fixed her pants, then bent down to grab her bra and Evan’s shirt off the ground while he admired the view. She turned around to face him, only to see his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Stop staring at me!” She laughed and threw his shirt in his face.

               “Meg? Are you out there?” The voice said. It sounded like Bill.

               Meg rushed to put on her clothes. “I’ll come back after my next trial, ok? I promise.”

               Evan was a little disappointed that she had to go. But he understood. The other survivors might get suspicious if she was gone for too long. Once she was ready he opened the door for her, but only after leaning down to kiss her again. Meg smiled into the kiss.

               “I’ll see you soon,” She said, and then disappeared into the tree line.

               Evan felt like soon couldn’t come fast enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ughhh I am so sorry this is so late. I couldn't decide what I wanted and had to write some parts multiple times. Hope it's not too garbage.

Meg came back from Evan’s shack with marks on her on her neck (that she tried to cover up) and swollen lips (which she couldn’t cover up), but nobody questioned her. This time, after her most recent trial, Meg managed to slip away from the campfire unnoticed because Claudette wasn’t there to call her out.

               She found the shack easily. A crow sat on top of it and cawed noisily. Meg shushed it and knocked on the door. “Hey, you in there?”

               The crow cawed again. There was no response from inside the shack.

               “Evan, it’s me,” She said. When the door didn’t open, Meg let herself in. She peeked inside and found that he wasn’t there.  Perhaps he was in his own trial for now, so she decided to wait for him. She sat on his cot and wrapped one of his blankets around her. It smelled like him. Like leather, smoke and a sharp tang of pine.

               She curled up into the blanket more, taking in the musky scent. The crow flew into the windowsill and screeched, causing Meg to jump in surprise. She got up, still with the huge blanket wrapped around herself and shooed the crow away from the window. She watched it fly away into the distance and then vanish.

               She went back to the cot and cozied up again. _Maybe I’ll take a nap_ , she thought. Wrapping herself in his scent and dozing off sounded wonderful. She lay down and closed her eyes, soon falling to sleep and dreaming about Evan’s rough hands touching her body.

***

               She woke to a voice outside the shack and a knock on the door. “Oh, Mr. Trapper? Are you home?” It said. Meg shot up out of the bed. That wasn’t Evan, and that _definitely_ wasn’t any of her people. Another bang on the door. “We’re looking for something, mind if we come in?”

               “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck!”_ Meg whispered and looked for a place she could hide. Judging by the wheezy voice, that was the Doctor outside, a killer. She doubted that he would let her go if he found her. The cupboard seemed too obvious a place to hide, and none of the drawers on the work table were big enough to fit her. She couldn’t hop through the window either, it was too close to the door and the Doctor would see her.

               The doorknob wiggled. Meg threw the blanket over herself and curled up into a ball on the cot. Hopefully it would just look like the Trapper was too lazy to make his bed when he woke up, and not like someone was hiding underneath the blanket.

               The door opened, and Meg put her hand over her mouth. The floor creaked as he walked inside. The Doctor hummed, “Guess he’s not here right now.”

               A second set of footsteps followed through the door. _There are two of them!_ Meg’s mind screamed, but she couldn’t tell who the second killer was. Her heart was beating faster than it did in trials and her hand was sweaty against her mouth.

               “Hopefully he won’t mind us taking a look around then!” He said, and the other killer said nothing. The floor creaked again as the two moved around the room. Meg tried her best not to writhe. The walking stopped. “Oh! We’re looking for Max’s hammer. Someone took it and put it somewhere, and he whines a great deal when he can’t find his things.” She guessed he was saying that to the mystery killer.

               The other killer said nothing and there were more creaks as they walked. Some parts being moved around on the work table, and a piece of metal plinking on the floor. She wished Evan would come back and tear apart the Doctor and his friend. He probably could.

               Long fingers rested on the blanket and grabbed onto her leg. They paused, as if surprised, and then prodded her thigh. Meg bit down on her finger harshly, and she tasted coppery blood. Another hesitation, and then the blanket was yanked over her head. The Wraith peered down at her with a confused look, then his eyes widened. The lanky creature threw the blanket over her face, concealing her from the Doctor.

               A tear rolled down her cheek and settled on her lips. Why would he do that? Her thoughts were interrupted by the cupboard door being thrown open with a crash, and Meg winced from under the covers.

               “It’s here! I found it,” The Doctor said. “I’m going to go give it back to him.” There was a bit of silence as the Wraith tried to tell him something (Meg guessed since apparently, he didn’t talk), and then the Doctor said, “Ok, you wait for Trapper, I’ll be going.”

               More silence and a bang of the door as the Doctor exited. She let out a sob. No need to be quiet when the Wraith knew she was there. She poked her head out from under the blankets and saw the thin giant staring at her from across the room. He came closer and she cried out.

               The Wraith stopped, waiting. He put out a hand for her to take and she shrunk back into the blanket. The scent of pine hit her nose and she sniffled.

               “Aren’t you going to kill me?” She asked.

               The Wraith shook his head no. Then he pointed to himself, then sliced a finger across his neck and shook his head no again. _Me, killing, no._

               “You… don’t like to kill?”

               There was a ‘thumbs up’ motion from the Wraith.

               “Huh.”

               Meg got out of the cot, cautiously still, and faced the tall man. The Wraith looked at her neck with interest, he was looking at the marks that Evan left behind. They were peeking out from under her shirt. “Um…” She started.

               He gave her a knowing smile.

               “That’s kind of why I was here. You see… the Trapper and I are…” She said.

               He made a ‘go on’ motion.

               “Soulmates.”

               The Wraith’s smile grew even wider. Turning to the worktable, he rummaged through the drawers until he found a bit paper and a piece of charcoal. Started writing. _Trapper is a very private man,_ it read. _I’m glad he let someone in._

               “Yeah, he is. I don’t think he wants anyone to know about this.” She said.

               He mimed locking his mouth up and throwing away the key.

               She smiled. The cabinet door was thrown open and a few of Evan’s things had fallen out. She picked up a grey shirt from the floor and folded it. “Thank you for not handing me over to the Doctor. I appreciate that.”

               He wrote on the paper again and held it out for her to take. _It’s nothing, I don’t really like him all that much anyways._

               She snorted, “Does anyone really?” The Wraith shook his head, smiling. He was different than she expected, much different. Usually terrifying in trials, the Wraith so kind outside of them. She put the shirt back into the closet and picked up another.  

               The door opened. Meg turned and saw Evan. “Oh! You’re back! We were just—”

               “What the hell is going on?” He growled. “What is he doing here?”

               Meg furrowed her brow. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

               But, he wasn’t listening. He came face to face with the Wraith and shoved him in the chest. “What are you doing in here with her?! How did you know about her?!” He yelled, his deep voice resonating in every corner of the shack. The Wraith put his hands up in surrender, but Evan just kept on shoving.

               Meg stepped between the two. “Evan stop it! Just let me explain!” He didn’t listen but pushed her out from in between them. It was a hard shove, she almost fell backwards. Anger bubbled in her.

               Evan threw a punch. The Wraith ducked and the punch swung through the air. Another punch. Another miss. Evan roared and tried to grab the Wraith by the shoulders. He managed to slip out of Evan’s grasp without being tackled and stood near the door, his arms still in the air. It was oddly quiet, other than the sounds of heavy breathing coming from the Trapper.

               Meg spoke softly. “Are you done?”

               Obviously, he was not done. “Leave!” He said to the Wraith. “Get out of here!” The Wraith gave an apologetic look to Meg and then left silently.

               Just the two of them now. He threw his cleaver across the room, and she flinched when the blade found a home in the wall. His mask came off. As he moved towards her, Meg didn’t even realize that she was moving away until her back hit the wall. She was scared. Was he going to take his anger out on her?

               “You’re mine,” He said, and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Not his.”

               “Wha—you think that’s what was going on?” He thought she was hooking up with the Wraith. Seriously? He growled and tried to kiss her forcefully on the mouth. She turned her head away from his lips, and he managed a sloppy kiss next to her nose. The anger in the kiss was almost tangible. “Evan, stop it.”

               He kissed her again, and she tried pushing him away. His solid body didn’t budge. “Stop it!”

               “Why?” He pressed himself up against her.

               “You can’t just explode and then expect everything to be fine.” She said, pushing him away slightly.

               He huffed. “I was only protecting you from him.”

               It was Meg’s turn to huff. “You were throwing punches wildly and you pushed me! I wasn’t even allowed to get in one word to explain, you just jumped to the conclusion that I was _seeing_ him. And that I would stoop so low as to fool around with him _here_ of all places!” She was yelling at him now, jabbing a finger into his chest.

               He hovered over her. Almost menacingly so. Maybe she had pushed him too far. Meg shrunk back into the wall. His voice boomed, “Fine then, explain it to me!”

               Meg curled her lip in his display of anger. “He and that sorry excuse for a doctor came in looking for a hammer or something… the Wraith made sure I stayed hidden.” She was going to continue, but he turned away.

               “I’m such an idiot! I should’ve been here!” He yelled and she flinched. His furious hands grabbed a toolbox from the table and threw it down. Nails, screwdrivers and other various bits flew from the dented box and rolled across the floor. Meg found herself pressed against the wall again, trying to get away. He grabbed the stool next. The one she had sat on when she tended to her wounds. It smashed into splintered pieces, some coming close to where Meg was standing.

               She cried out. “Stop it! You’re scaring me…”

               “I think you should go,” he said. Anger had taken control of his actions and he had been so close to hurting her multiple times. It had been so long since he had lashed out in anger like that. “I can’t control myself properly when you’re around. You’re a distraction.”

               To say she was offended was an understatement. “A distraction. That’s all I am.” Her voice was laced with irritation.  

               “That’s not what I meant.”

               “Then what do you mean Evan! You’re throwing things around and not letting me help you! Then said I was the reason you act this way. You can’t just do that to me.”  

               “You’re right,” he said quietly, coming closer to her.

               “Shut up, I’m leaving. I could’ve gotten hurt because of you. I shouldn’t have to be afraid of you. Take some time to think about that, and maybe then I’ll come back.”

               He let her pass in defeat. Nothing was said as Meg went to the door, making sure not to trip on the remains of Evan’s tantrum littering the floor. Took one last look at him from the door. He looked hurt, those beautiful brown eyes were glued to the floor. Meg almost went back to him. Almost. No. He had to realize that what he did was wrong.

               She left and Evan could only hold his face in his hands.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, I was going to make this two chapters but it merged into one. Also thank you guys so much for over 1000 hits and all the lovely comments and kudos! Seeing comments really brightens my day :)
> 
> (Warning: Heavily NSFW in the second half of the chapter)

Five trials went by without Meg or Evan seeing each other. Although she missed him, she didn’t dare go crawling back to his door like some desperate ex-girlfriend. Is that what she is now? His ex-girlfriend? The word sounded so foreign in her head, there wasn’t really a need to say it in this realm anyways. But, she wouldn’t go crawling back. Not until she was sure.

               Evan on the other hand was a mess. He hadn’t been sleeping properly, and when he did he always woke up sweaty, needy and hard from another dream about her. Usually he dreamed about when he had taken off her mask and she had just accepted him. That in itself had almost been more arousing than when she climbed on his lap and whispered in his ear…

               He was so ashamed of himself. Getting off from being called pretty. Men weren’t supposed to like being called pretty. But when she said it, without a hint of a lie, he had melted. _Loved_ the attention. Felt wanted for the first time in forever.

               But she’d been right. He had almost hurt her and being separated from her for a while would be less painful than actually harming her. Less painful for her and him. Evan was so much larger than Meg, she didn’t even reach his shoulder. Thin too. One wrong step and he could snap her in half like a strand of uncooked spaghetti.

               He thought about her all the time. In trials, at the campfire, in his dreams, everywhere. Did she think about him too? Did she care as much as he did? Fuck.

               The first thing he did after she stormed away was apologize to the Wraith, Phillip. The scrawny man was very surprised to be given an apology, especially since it was given so soon. Phillip hadn’t expected one at all. He asked Evan if everything went okay between the two and was saddened so hear that they had gotten into a bit of a spat.

               “Meg’s mad at me,” He had said to Phillip. “I’m not sure where we stand now.” It was awkward, having someone know about his personal life.

               _I hope everything works out between you too. She is a nice girl,_ Phillip wrote back.

               “If it’s not too much to ask… if you see her, could you tell her to come by?” He cringed. He sounded so pitiful. Though, Phillip just nodded vigorously.

               Even after his conversation with Phillip, he still felt pent up. Anxious. Not knowing if she was okay made him nervous. Instead of usually confining himself to the little shack, he would often sit outside now. He brought out some of his equipment and did mundane tasks, like repairing the stool he shattered and cleaning his traps. If she just happened to pass by in the forest, he would see her no doubt.

               His desire to see her was intense. Frighteningly so. He tried to ignore the feeling of his chest constricting whenever he sat out there for hours, with no sign of her. It just kept getting worse. Sometimes he swore he saw a flash of red hair in the forest. It would distract him from his task at hand and fill him with hope. Meg was never really there though.

               One time he even ventured through the thick trees, in the way that she came from when she visited, and left a note nailed to a tree. He tried his best to find a place where she would see it and prayed that nobody else ever laid eyes on it.

It said:

_Meg,_

_I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. I understand that I overreacted, extremely. My actions were inconsiderate and I could have harmed you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had. What you said made me realize that I need to change how I handle certain situations._

_I don’t expect you to think that this is an adequate apology._

_Please, if you read this, I just want you to know that I miss you. I have changed._

_You know where to find me._

               He felt pathetic. He left the note on the tree anyway. Made sure to check it every once in a while. He hoped that she would leave a note for him in return or come back and see him.

               When the note did disappear from the tree, but nothing was left in its place, it felt like he had been slapped. The nail was on the ground. Evan looked and looked for any sign of her, and found the words _Not yet_ scratched into the bark. Most likely made with the tip of the nail.

               _Not yet._

 _She doesn’t want me,_ he thought. _Not yet._

Not yet!  She didn’t want to see him yet. So much time had went by, and she still didn’t want to see him! Evan ground his teeth, his shoulders tense. He went back to his little shack and grabbed the stool sitting at his makeshift workspace outside. His grip was so tight against the wood, his knuckles were a pale ghostly white. He threw the stool against the ground and it shattered. He’d just repaired the stupid thing too.

               He stopped. _Not yet._ This is exactly what she meant. He automatically resorted to violence when he wasn’t in control of the situation. He cursed. She was right to be cautious.

               Before he could do anything about the broken stool, he felt the Entity’s presence push him towards the campfire. Evan sighed. He would repair it later, when he got back. For now, he trudged to the campfire, toward another trial.

***

               Crotus Prenn Asylum was an awful place. It was dark, damp, cold and a whole lot of other unpleasant things. Evan quickly got to work placing a couple of traps. One next to a generator, and two others in the middle of pallets hidden in the grass.

               Someone made a mistake at a generator nearby, he heard the explosion inside the asylum. _Stupid,_ he thought. _They’re going to be trapped in there if they don’t move fast._ This should be easy enough prey. He moved quickly towards the dilapidated building and went inside. Whoever was in here must’ve gotten startled by his approach because the generator blew up again. He went up the stairs.

               A small man with glasses almost bumped into him. He squeaked in pain as the blade came down on his back. Then cried out when Evan hit him again. “Please don’t do this!” the man shrieked while being lifted onto Evan’s shoulder.

               Evan let out a shaky breath. Thankfully it wasn’t Meg. He didn’t hurt her. He could handle the screaming and crying as long as it wasn’t Meg.

               He hooked the crying man with glasses in the basement and placed bear trap at the bottom of the stairs before continuing on with his hunt.               

               A generator popped in the distance. Evan moved towards it but made sure to stick to stick to the trees to hide his large body. A flock of crows was spooked and flew away. Evan grinned. He knew where his prey was. He found scratch marks leading straight to them.

               He saw a girl running in the distance. Dark haired and pale. Not Meg. Okay. He can do this. The man with glasses was taken off the hook in the basement. Instead of chasing after the girl he redirected his attention to the basement. Someone had stepped in the trap he’d left there. The scream gave it away.

               The asylum was quiet except for the sounds of struggling coming from the basement. There were no scratch marks on the walls from any running survivors. He went to the basement and snatched the up the trapped survivor. He hooked her quickly.

               Her screams sounded like Meg’s. _It’s not her, it’s not her,_ he thought. He wasn’t hurting her. She would still come back to him in time. _A man with glasses, a dark-haired girl, a blonde girl. There’s still another one out there. What do I do if it’s her?_

               Something wasn’t right. A survivor was still here. No scratch marks or blood coming from the basement. Someone was here. Evan began to search the lockers littered around. One by one till he heard the quiet creak of someone exiting a locker in the back corner. Jackpot.

               The man with glasses cried as he was struck down. Evan threw him on the hook. He could almost hear the Entity purr in his ear. He placed another trap before leaving the basement.

               He stayed near the asylum just in case someone was idiotic enough to go save their friends in the basement. The man with glasses must have died soon after because Evan could hear the loud boom that was made when a sacrifice was completed. Another generator popped somewhere in the distance.

               He moved towards the finished generator, seeing scratch marks moving away from it. He followed them before they suddenly disappeared into the forest. The survivor must still be close by though, they were just walking so he wouldn’t know the direction they were headed. He moved around the trees and rocks, hoping to flush them out from wherever they were hiding.

               He walked through a pallet when it was suddenly brought down on his head. He roared in pain. Once he got his bearings back, he chased after the scratch marks, finally seeing a man in a police vest.  It was easy enough to bring him down and hook him. He didn’t feel any joy from it though.

               He set a few traps close by, while the man cried out on the hook. Evan decided to hang around just in case someone decided to come and save him. Soon enough, the blonde girl came around. She was clutching her stomach, bleeding heavily. Evan struck her down and lifted her up so she could meet her unfortunate end.

               She stabbed him. Right in the meaty muscle of his shoulder. This time it was a nail, sliding in and out of his body. He yelled and dropped the blonde survivor. _That fucking bitch,_ he thought with a malicious sneer.

               Tracking her down and hooking her again was easy enough. She died quick. The man in the police vest too. There was just the dark-haired girl, all alone. He went on the hunt for the hatch, hoping that he would find it before her.

               He checked inside the asylum, with no luck, then circled around the fallen brick walls scattered around the map. Then in the forest, where he finally found it. No sign of the girl though. He decided to wait, setting some traps nearby. He walked close to the hatch, but soon got impatient from waiting so long that he made wider loops. Maybe it would entice the girl to try and make a run for it.

               He saw something dart through the trees. Ah, so she had been waiting for the right moment to make a move. He darted just as quick, catching her by the back of the shirt as she jumped into the hatch. He dangled her above it, taunting her. She screamed and pounded on his arm, but he held on easily.

               She said something quick in Mandarin. He ignored her and threw her on a hook. The scream of pain brought him no joy though. The Entity soon brought her into the sky, sacrificing her. Still, there was no thrill that ran up his spine. Just loneliness.

               Everything was silent, Crotus Prenn had been vanquished of all survivors. Evan saw one of the Entity’s gangly limbs come down from the sky. Its sharp end traced his jaw, before settling under his chin, tilting his head up.

               “ _Such a good pet you are for me,_ ” the Entity said. Its voice was warped, twisted to be deep but not human. It sounded like all the innocent souls it had taken were screaming at him. “ _You did so good for me.”_

               Evan hummed, trying to make it look like the praise pleased him. It didn’t. “Thank you, Master.”

               The pressure was released from his chin. The limb stroked down his neck, shoulder, back, then side. “ _What do you desire as a reward, my plaything?_ ”

               “Nothing, Master. Just your satisfaction.”

               “ _I am very pleased.”_

“Good.”

               Without another word, it retreated into the sky.

***

               Four sacrifices. He had gotten four people but he didn’t feel any better about his situation. At least he’d gotten the Entity off his back for a while. And none of the survivors had been Meg. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she had been one of the survivors running through Crotus Prenn Asylum.

               He waved to Phillip at the campfire before heading back to his little home. He opened the door.

               Nobody was there.

               Evan sighed. Somewhere in his mind he hoped that she would be sitting there, on his bed or by the worktable. He cleaned his cleaver and placed it on the bench. He unhooked his overalls and tied them around his waist to inspect a wound on his shoulder. The blonde survivor had got him good. The wound was deep enough to slowly be oozing blood down his back.

               Evan went to the large med kit in the wardrobe. He opened it and found there were no bandages. He cursed. Looked around the room to see if there were any laying around. He pulled open the drawers of the worktable, and on the very last drawer found some bandages.

               Along with the bandages was a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. He didn’t remember putting these here. He furrowed his brow at the items but grabbed them anyways. All that was left in the drawer was a few sticks. They were arranged to form the letter _M._

               The letter _M_. For Meg. She had been here. Brought him bandages because he had none. She cared for him. Did that mean she wanted him? Did that mean she was ready to continue the relationship?

               No. If she was ready she would’ve been here, not leaving this cryptic message.

               He bandaged the cut the so it wouldn’t scar. He already had enough of those. He felt tired from the trial. And from thinking about Meg all the time. Worrying about her all the time. He went to the cot and took a nap.

***

               He felt hazy while he dreamed. Could barely keep his eyes open. He dreamed of a warm body pressed up against his back, fingers running up and down slowly. Hot breath tickled his neck. A leg was tangled between his. He decided that this was one good dream.

               He tried to turn over but was met with a quiet “Shh,” and a kiss to the neck. A cheek pressed into his back. He could feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin when she closed her eyes.

               Evan’s eyes flew open. This wasn’t a dream. “Meg,” he croaked.

               “I said shh, can’t a girl get some undisturbed sleep around here?” She chuckled.

               He flipped over to face her, pulling off the mask with him. It was her. Meg. Right there in front of him, blazing red hair and all. He resisted the urge to pin her to the bed with kisses. “You came back.”

               “And you look like a mess,” she smiled and put her face in his neck. Pine and smoke filled her nose.

               “More than usual?” he asked.

               “Yes, but I don’t mind a little bit of a mess.”

               Evan sighed into her hair. He was a disaster without her. “You’re back. You’re back and I’m going to be better for you.” He said, and he meant it. “No more throwing punches or yelling at you.”

               “Thank you, Evan,” she untucked herself from under his chin and gazed up at him. “I wanted to come back sooner, I really did. I missed you. But everyone kept asking why I would try to leave the campfire. We usually stick close to it, so it was weird for them to see me wandering away. The _not_ yet on the tree and in the _M_ in the drawer were the only way I could send a message to you. I meant not yet as in it was too suspicious for me to leave, not that I didn’t want to see you. I-I’m sorry.”

               “I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. The way I acted, it was insulting to you, I acted like I did when I was a younger man. I missed you too, you don’t even know how much.” he said, his voice soothing. He leaned in and their lips met in a kiss. It was soft but passionate, sweet even. They shared a few more languid kisses, like they had all the time in the world.

               She laughed, poked his bare chest. “Softie,” she said.

               “Don’t you dare tell anybody.” He smiled and rolled on top of her but made sure his weight wasn’t on her. They looked at each other in a second of silence before his grazed his teeth on her jaw. “Good?” She felt his voice vibrate along her neck.

               “Yes,” she sighed. Evan continued to nip his way along her neck. Her hands wrapped around him, feeling his muscles contract and expand as he moved. His mouth met hers in a kiss that was more frantic than the last. He grabbed her hand and held it tight against the cot.

               A rough bite to her neck caused her to whine. A hand snaked up her shirt. “Here, let me…” she said and he pulled back to allow her to sit up and take off her shirt. Her bra came with it, ending up on the floor somewhere. Evan held both her hands, hers dwarfed in his giant palms. They settled into the mattress again, him hovering above her with her hands pinned down.

               His look made her flush. Not judging her but appreciating. Eyes roaming from hers, then down to her mouth and then her nipples. His tongue ran over his lips. “So gorgeous,” he murmured, barely loud enough to hear. Her face felt hot. Letting go of her hands, he took hold of her legs and loosely wrapped them around his hips. He dove down to plant a kiss just below her bellybutton and said “I thought about you all the time, every second possible.” She flushed again, face impossibly red, and shut her eyes tight as he bit into the soft skin. “Let me show you how much I want this.”

               Meg moaned quietly. That seemed to do it for Evan. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down off her legs. Then the same with her underwear. Her naked body pressed against his hips was a sight. Lean and muscular, almost writhing underneath him. “Is that what you want me to do?” he pressed a finger to her clitoris and rubbed slowly. His words were met with a yes and a few eager nods.

               When he leaned down to mash their lips together, Meg felt the hard, insistent ridge of his cock grind down on her. She rolled her hips into it, happy that she made him aroused this easily. Evan moaned. Their hands found each other’s again, and she wrapped her legs around him to bring them closer. Evan kicked off his boots, and they fell to the floor with a muffled thud.

               He pulled away and got out of the bed. Meg whimpered. “Don’t worry, I’m coming back,” he cooed. He took off his overalls and underwear, totally exposed to her now. Meg licked her lips. Long muscular legs and a fantastic ass faced her. His dick bounced as he came back to the bed. Thick and long, just like the rest of him. She wondered how she got so lucky to have a man like him as her soulmate. “Checking me out, are you?” He settled on top of her and bit her collarbone.

               “Uh-huh, I like what I see,” she grinned. His lips moved downwards along her body taking bites all over. He pulled a leg over his shoulder to pressed a kiss into her inner thigh. Then a bite. Then another one, harder this time. More and more until there were red imprints blooming across her skin. When she yelped at the sudden pain of a long, drawn out bite, Evan made sure to suck and press kisses to it. She complained, “That will leave a mark!”

                “Let it. If someone sees them they’ll know that you’ve been claimed by someone else.”

               Before she could comment on how possessive he was, his tongue darted to her entrance. She moaned loudly as he pushed his tongue into her. One wide finger joined his tongue and Meg’s hand flew to the back of his head to push him further. He chuckled darkly.

               Another finger. He spread them apart, making scissoring motions inside her. Along with those was his mischievous tongue, sucking on her clit. She moaned out his name, louder and louder. Back arching and toes curling. She whined in pleasure, the stretch was so good. Evan seemed to be enjoying her sounds as well, he was grinding himself into the mattress.

               She gasped, “I-I have to…” She could barely speak. He pulled out of her slowly. “No, no, please Evan,” she started, but stopped when his cock nudged her entrance.

               “I’ll go slow, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in her ear. So uncharacteristically gentle for her. She could sense he was holding back, not gripping or biting too hard. She almost wanted him to be rough with her. Maybe for another time.

               Meg felt the head pop in and her body stretch to accommodate his size. Inch by inch he slid his way home. It stung, her eyes watered. Evan was a large man, and it had been a long time since she had sex last. Her eyes shut tightly. “You’re in pain,” he said from above her. Then a realization hit him in the face. “Is this your first…?”

               “No, God no. Just… let me adjust… you’re so big…” she mumbled. He felt a bit silly for asking the question. Of course, someone as beautiful as Meg was not a virgin. There were probably throngs of men who wanted to be with her. But, she was so tight around him he couldn’t help but wonder.

                “This is hurting you, I’m going to stop,” he said.

               “No!” She exclaimed. “Don’t please.” Evan frowned but complied. A large finger stroked her clit to make it more pleasurable.  They stayed locked together for a moment before Meg said, “Move. Evan, please.”

               The way she said his name made him feel truly desired. How could he say no to her request? He rocked his hips gingerly, letting out a soft moan in Meg’s ear. Her body squeezed around him nicely.

               For her it wasn’t as painful anymore once he started moving. His short thrusts and hoarse breaths sent ripples of pleasure through her spine. Evan was a quiet, but dominant lover Meg supposed. Which made sense because he was a man of very few words. Today, she had heard the most words come from him than in any other of their meetings. Though she liked that about her soulmate, quiet and thoughtful, putting her needs before his. Some men were so chatty in bed, calling her slut or telling her she was made to be fucked. Vulgar things that she didn’t care about. The soft groans that Evan let himself indulge in were more than enough for her.

               “Faster,” she moaned. Meg pushed her hips against him and caught his mouth in a deep kiss. Evan sped up, settling into a steady rhythm. Pulling back so only the tip was in her, then sliding back in. A pleasurable sensation rolled through her body. It made her wrap her legs around him tighter and grab his hand that was currently cupping her face. Their fingers meshed together in a sweaty handhold. She held his hand like she never wanted to let go.

               “Are you alright?” Evan questioned, making sure that the intense handhold was a sign that she was in bliss, not pain.

               “ _Yes_ ,” she gasped. “M-more than alright. You’re doing so good for me…” Her praise made him groan and he thrust harder, earning another pleased mewl. “Yes, just like that,” she said. The encouragement pulled an unexpected moan from him. This didn’t feel like when the Entity praised him, the Entity had its own special way of making praises sound evil. Meg sounded nothing like that, she was genuine, happy with him, and so beautiful.

               Meg felt something building up, like a tight bowstring being stretched and stretched until the point where it was about to snap. “Evan, I’m g-going to come.”

               “Come for me,” he hummed. “Let the whole world know that you’re enjoying yourself.” The way he looked at her sent her over the edge. This intense hunger in his eyes, like he wanted to devour her whole. He snapped forward while she came. She clenched down around him, crying out, her legs shaking around his hips.

               Evan rested his head on her shoulder and moved faster, erratically chasing his own release. The little gasps coming from his soulmate were too much for him. A few sloppy thrusts later he came, breathing heavily into Meg’s ear. He flopped onto his side and gathered her in his arms, still inside her, plugging her up and keeping his seed within her.

               Meg stroked his scarred cheek lovingly. The both of them were covered in sweat, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the skin to skin contact, the closeness, the overwhelming desire for each other. Evan’s cock went soft so she rolled on top of him and pulled him out of her. Cum flowed out of her and dropped onto his belly, and she was a bit surprised to see how much was coming out. She didn’t really mind it though, she was sure that she wouldn’t get pregnant in this place. She didn’t need to eat, drink or sleep if she didn’t want to. She didn’t menstruate either.

               Evan shuddered beneath her, watching with half lidded eyes. “You like that? Dirty boy,” she said and wiped his belly with a random cloth.

               A smile ran across his features, but he didn’t retort. Instead, he gathered her up in his arms and lay down with her on his chest. Kissed her hair. “Thank you,” he said. He barely recognized his own voice. Saying thank you and asking if she was alright, instead of just taking what he wanted. She brought out this softer intimate side of him, and he wasn’t sure to be scared of it or to embrace it. Throughout his whole life he had to be strong, emotionless, ruthless. For the family business, for his father, for… the mining ‘accident’. _Shit_ , he thought. _When am I going to tell her about that?_

               He was going to, eventually. Maybe. He regretted it, every single second he was forced to stay here he regretted it, but would Meg be fine with it? He didn’t really know.

               Meg kissed his chest, “What is it?”

               “What?” He said.

               “You were smiling and then you’re face went cold, like you’d seen a ghost or something.” She said, eyebrows furrowed.

               “Just thinking,” he replied.

               There was a moment of silence. A crow screeched somewhere in the forest. “About…?”

               “Life. Before this mess.” He said. Then pulled the blanket over the two of them to keep warm.

               “I think about that a lot too,” Meg said, sighing. “I miss track and field, I miss going to university, I even miss my mom, as overbearing as she could be sometimes.”

               “I’m sure she misses you too.” His hand found the small of her back and stroked lightly.

               She gazed up at him, “Do you miss your parents, Evan?”

               He looked away from her for a moment, and the soft stroking slowed. Meg was afraid she asked the wrong thing.  “My… mother wasn’t really in the picture, and my father and I had an odd relationship,” He said with a subdued voice.

               “That’s too bad,” Meg said. “My dad left when I was a baby. He and my mom weren’t soulmates, and from what she told me, he wasn’t a very nice man.”

               “I’m sorry for that.”

               “No need, it’s not your fault. It’s just life.” Then Meg scoffed, “Though, as much as I miss my mom, we’re not talking about her anymore while we’re naked.”

               His chest rumbled with a chuckled. The vibrations felt good against her body. “Fair enough,” he said.

               “If not your parents, then what do you miss the most? I want to know more about your life.”

               Evan thought about it for a moment, then said, “Having hair.”

               Meg burst out laughing. “Really? That’s what you miss?”

               “Yes. I had great hair, women loved it. Then I got here and now nothing.” He scratched his bald head.

               Meg rolled her eyes. “I like you just the way you are,” she said. Then she sat up, straddling his stomach. The weight of her didn’t seem to bother him at all. His skin quivered when she a lay a possessive hand on his chest. “I like all of you.” Nails scraped down his body, scratching his rough skin. Larges hands came to clutch her hips but she brushed them away.

               “Tease,” he growled, not liking that she pushed him away.

               “Who, me?” she smirked.

               Instantly she was flipped over so she was underneath him. His heavy breaths fell across her forehead. She licked her lips and quirked a brow at him, smiling devilishly.

               They went at it again. This time it was rough and hard. Evan growled and bit every inch of her skin while all she could do was whine as he slammed in and out of her. He towered over her, holding her down by the hips. Her hands gripped the sheets as tight as possible as she came. This was his way of telling her that she belonged to him, that no one else should even think about touching her. That she was totally, and completely his. Her writhing body and delicious moans stirred him on, and he came quickly, filling her up again. When his cum dripped out of her and onto the sheets he felt entranced. Her entrance was almost gaping around nothing, thoroughly stretched out. Meg just lay there, tired from being fucked, but still caught his eyes. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

               After, they held each other tight until the Entity’s presence forced Evan to return to the campfire.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm back! It's been a looooooooong time since I've updated, and I'm super sorry for that... I've been insanely busy/on vacation. I'll try to get regular updates in now :)
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: There is blood and some violence, some sexual harassment as well as a brief mention of rape (I tried to make it subtle enough though)
> 
> Also, I've made a tumblr! It's 'zoomsfics' just like my ao3 name so hit me up if that's what you're into (though there isn't much on it right now it's brand new)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The campfire roared steadily as always and Meg saw Evan’s face in it. The hungry way he looked at her, the adoration in his eyes. Like she was that first sip of water after a journey through the desert. Nobody had ever looked at her like that, it had been quite shocking actually.

               She wanted to go see him again. It would attract too much attention. Instead she decided to try and pass the time somehow. She went to her tent by the campfire to change into something cleaner. Nobody was at the campfire, save for Quentin who was snoring loudly. She supposed the others would be back from their trials soon.

               She got in the tent and pulled off her shirt, grabbing a sweater. Dark bruises had bloomed across her skin since her meeting with Evan. Across her breasts, collarbone and neck. Even a harsh mark on her ribs. She didn’t want to see what it looked like between her thighs. Meg couldn’t help blush at the sight of her own body. _If someone sees them they’ll know that you’ve been claimed by someone else_ , he had said. Claimed. He was so possessive. Though it made her feel wanted, a special thing he craved only for himself.

“Meg? Are you in here?” Someone called. It was Claudette. The two shared the tent.

               Meg struggled to get the sweater on quickly. Her voice was muffled by it. “Yeah! Just give me a second!”

               Claudette opened the tent flap. “Oh!” She squeaked in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

               Meg pulled the sweater down over her body, hoping that Claudette didn’t see anything. “It’s fine,” Meg said. “How did your trial go?”

               Claudette made no indication that she saw the marks on Meg’s body. She just smiled brightly. “All of us escaped! I was coming to tell you that we’re having a little celebration at the campfire if you want to come.”

               “Against which killer?”

               “The Shape. I don’t know how we did it, but we did it!” They smiled at each other, then went to campfire to celebrate. Meg was glad that they all made it out alive, but some deep part of her was also glad that Evan hadn’t been the killer to let them all go.

               David and Dwight were dancing at the campfire, but it was mostly David dragging Dwight around wildly while the man with glasses tried not to stumble. David was singing some song that Meg didn’t know. It was horribly off-key. Feng was sitting on a log, swinging her legs.

               “Geez David, who taught you to sing?” Meg laughed.

               “Excuse me? My Nan sang me this song when I was a boy! And I am a bloody fantastic singer!” He yelled back. “Isn’t that right Dwight?”

               Dwight’s ears went red. “Um…”

               “Don’t put him on the spot like that David!” Claudette giggled.

               David put a hand to his heart dramatically. “Oh! I can’t believe this, he doesn’t think I’m a good singer! Dwight how could you betray me like this?!” All of them laughed. It was times like this that made living in this cruel place not so bad. When all of them were acting like old friends and laughing by the campfire.

               David threw a rock into the roaring fire. “Stupid Entity, we beat your best killer, what are you gonna do about it?”

               The others watched at the campfire made a grumbling sound, then spit the rock back at David. It hit him in the shin and he cursed. “It didn’t like your offering, I’m guessing,” Meg said.

               “Tremendously increases stupidity,” Claudette chuckled.

               David rubbed his shin. “Fucker. That really hurt.”

               Meg picked up the fallen rock. “Dodge this David!” She giggled and he shrieked as she threw it into the fire. The scrapper dove behind a snickering Dwight as the rock was thrown from the campfire in the opposite direction. David peeked out from behind Dwight’s shoulder.

               “I didn’t know the fearsome fighter was that much of a chicken,” Meg chuckled.

               David got out from behind Dwight. “Fearsome was old me, when I was the best streetfighter in Manchester. Now… not so much. Not when there’s monsters running around in the fucking forest.”

               “Yeah…” Meg said, biting her lip. Monsters. Was Evan a monster? In some ways yes, she thought, but in other ways no. Evan seemed like a person who had gone through some difficult times, just like her. He had said it himself, he didn’t have a mother growing up and wasn’t too close to his father. But still, there must be a reason why he was a killer and not a survivor. Did he truly enjoy killing her friends? And despite his sadistic madness, she had managed to be spared from his blade? No, somehow that didn’t seem like him. She refused to believe that he was killing by his own free will. The Entity was the real monster here. Evan had his issues, but it didn’t make him as bad as their malevolent god.

               Quentin yawned and got up. “What’s up guys?” He asked.

               The silence ended like it never happened. “Quentin!” Dwight smiled. “We all got out of a trial against the Shape!” Quentin was impressed and the conversation carried on easily.

               “That’s basically impossible to do, what’s your secret?” Quentin asked.

               Dwight smiled slyly. “We all brought flashlights, extra batteries too. It was David’s idea.” Dwight looked up at David, who was beaming.

               Still holding Dwight’s gaze, David said, “I think we burned the bugger’s eyes out. He stood in the corner for a while with his hands over his eyes.” Meg raised and eyebrow. That sounded like the fastest way to get a killer to hate you. Though, it must’ve been hilarious to see the Entity’s most brutal killer cowering away from a few dingy flashlights.

                “What the fuck were you thinking back there!?” Someone screamed from the forest, causing Meg and the other to look towards the trees. Nea came stomping at them with rage in every footfall. “How could you all just leave me behind like that?” Ace, Jake and Bill followed behind her, all looking very irritated. Everyone at the campfire turned to look at the commotion. Meg guessed that their trial did not go too well.

               “We had the doors open, I wasn’t going to take that risk. The Trapper had a ton of traps placed all around you.” Bill said. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his signature cigarette dangling from his mouth. The smoke curled through the air before disappearing completely. It was a wonder that he could still run away from killers with all that smoke in his lungs.

               “The Trapper is a piece of shit, and he wasn’t even nearby! You guys could’ve save me easily.” Nea snarled. Meg clenched her fist at her comment. Sure, Evan was a piece of shit to the survivors, but he was _her_ piece of shit. She wished she could tell Nea to shut up without the survivors knowing that she was involved with him. She didn’t want to break the unspoken rule between them, nobody was to know about their relationship. Except Phillip, of course.  

               Bill still had his arms crossed, not taking any of Nea’s tantrum. “Like I said, not a risk I was willing to take. I’ve died too many times like that.”

               Nea just scoffed and turned away from Bill, facing the other survivors at the campfire. “What are you all looking at?” She barked. Everyone turned away to find something to busy their hands with. Neither David, Dwight, Claudette or Feng mentioned anything about their latest victory. Just like that, everything was back to normal.

***

               Nea was in a better mood by the time the next trial rolled around. This time, she was in the MacMillan Estate. Meg started off by Ace, and they immediately got to work on a generator. For a while they worked on the generator in silence, and the killer never made an appearance.

               They finished the generator just as their heartbeats started to thunder in their ears. Instead of sprinting away, Ace grabbed Meg’s arm and put a finger to his lips. She saw her own confused face reflected in the lenses of his sunglasses but decided to trust him. They hid behind a couple of crates next to the blocked off mine shaft and held their breaths as the heartbeat roared in their ears and the killer passed by. Meg didn’t get a chance to look at the killer though, since Ace had been holding onto her arm so tightly. _Why the fuck is he sitting so close to me?_ Meg thought in aggravation.

               The heartbeat faded. “Come on, let’s go.” Meg said and pulled her arm out of Ace’s grasp. He agreed and the two made their way to the next closest generator, hidden behind a few wooden walls. “Thanks for the save back there. I probably would’ve ran straight into the killer.” Meg told Ace.

               He chuckled. “No need to thank me, darling,” Ace drawled in his usual flirtatious tone. She ignored it.

               “Did you get a chance to see who it was?” She asked?

               “Nope.”

               Meg sighed. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and find out then.” Hey worked on a generator a little while longer. In that time, someone was hooked, then saved, then hooked again. Meg flinched when the scream rang out across the Suffocation Pit. Ace snatched her arm when she made a move to go rescue them. “Let’s finish this up first, it’s almost done.”

               She huffed in annoyance but kneeled to finish off the generator. It popped quickly after and Meg ran off to rescue the hooked person with a burst of speed. The killer wasn’t around by the time she reached the hook. Dwight was struggling against the Entity’s gangly arms. She pulled him off, and he mumbled his thanks before running off in the opposite direction. She snuck off behind a brick wall to hide.

               The heartbeat built up in her ears. She pressed against the boxes next to the wall, franticly trying to catch the location of the Killer. Her eyes settled on a rusted bear trap nestled in the grass. _Oh Evan_ , she thought, but didn’t dare come out and reveal herself to him in case any other survivors saw. _Keep up appearances, play the game._ How would he react when he did see her?

               She felt her heartbeat in her throat. Evan was so close he must have been right behind the wall. Meg decided to make a mad dash for safety, and launched herself away from the wall, only to be grabbed by a pair of arms. They pulled her back and into a locker before she could cry out. A hand covered her mouth as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the locker. Her yelps were muffled by the hand over her face. For a moment she thought that it might have been Evan who had grabbed her, but she dismissed the thought. Evan would never be able to fit in a locker.

               “ _Shh!I_ ” Ace hissed, his voice hushed. He let his hand drop.

 _“Ace goddammit what the actual fuck?”_ She seethed back, whispering. She could feel his breath on her face. She tried to recoil back, but she was trapped by the locker. He was practically draped all over her. She was _so_ uncomfortable right now, especially because Evan could easily find them in there together.

               “You should be thanking me Meg, I’ve saved you from that monster twice now.” He came even closer if that was possible. She could feel his breath on her forehead. His crotch was pressed up against hers.

               _Oh_ , she thought. _By thanking him he means fucking him._ “Get off of me Ace,” She tried to shove him away, but there was no room to go in the locker. “I don’t owe you anything.”

               “Oh come on darling, everyone knows what you do when you sneak off into the woods, we’ve seen the marks. Why don’t we have a go at it then?” Ace said, pressing closer.

               She yelled at him now. “Ace, I’m gonna leave this locker, and we are going to pretend you never just said that.”

               “Well then at least tell me who the lucky guy is?”

               None of them noticed the heartbeat in their ears. Evan was very near, so close that he heard a commotion going on in the locker. “Fuck off man!” Meg shouted. Evan ripped open the doors and found his precious Meg inside with some man. Evan growled then shoved an arm between the two, looking at Meg the whole time. He snatched Ace up by the neck and threw him over his shoulder, stalking off to find a hook for Ace to hang off of.

               Meg didn’t dare move from the locker. In the time that Evan was gone, both Dwight and Ace died, and whoever else was in the trial got moried. Meg was sure he was fuming right now. Eventually, he came back to her locker and offered a hand out to her. She placed her smaller hand in his and he helped her put of the locker.

               “Are you mad?” Meg asked him.

               “Not at you, at him.” His hand traced her arm. “For harassing you.”

               “Thanks for that,” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around him. His arms gripped her loosely.

               “You shouldn’t thank me,” Evan sighed. “I killed him. It’s messed up.”

               Meg pondered the thought. To be completely honest, she still wasn’t used to him voicing his opinions to her. One second he was closed off and rough like sandpaper and the next he wasn’t. Though, it was good he was opening up to her now. “From what I can tell, you have no choice but to do it. Ace will appear at the campfire, he’ll be fine.”

               “I should have a choice though! The others and I, we shouldn’t be forced to do this.” He grumbled, holding tighter to Meg. “What if one day you don’t appear back at the campfire, Meg? What am I supposed to do then?”

               “I don’t know,” she said into his chest. “Let’s just go, please.”

               He let go of her reluctantly. “Let’s find the hatch.”

               “Are you sure? Won’t the Entity get mad at you for letting me escape?” She couldn’t help but ask. She didn’t want to get him in trouble. The Entity wasn’t something to be messed with.

               “Yes, I’m sure, I’m not going to hook you. Never.” He said. Three survivors had to be enough for the Entity for now. Seeing Meg safe was worth any torture the Entity could hit him with.

               They found the hatch easily. “Come see me, if you’re able,” he said.

               “Of course, see you soon.” She hopped into the darkness.

***

               Meg materialized in the woods near the campfire. From what she could see, the other survivors were chatting amongst each other quietly in a circle. Dwight, David, Nea, Jake, in the circle. Claudette and Ace sitting on the logs. When she came over, all eyes were on her. Weird. “Hey guys, everything alright?” she asked.

               “D-Did you escape Meg?” Dwight asked with wide eyes.

               “Yeah, the hatch. If everything’s fine over here I’m just gonna go—”

               “No, stay. We need to have a chat, Meg.” David said. He had a dark look in his eyes.

               “Um, okay. What’s up?”

               Dwight moved to stand in front of David. “Uhm, w-we just want to talk to you about t-the… trial.” He stammered, seeming more nervous than usual.

               David grit his teeth. “We were talking while you were gone. We just want to ask a few questions. Sit down.”

               Meg sat. Everyone’s eyes were on her. “Is this about the locker… with Ace?” she asked.

               “No,” David growled. “This is more important. There’s no delicate way to put this, but…”

               Meg threw her arms up, “But what?!” What could be more important than addressing the fact that Ace had been harassing her instead of doing generators?

               Dwight’s face went tomato red as David continued. “…are you and the Trapper involved… intimately?”

               Meg’s heart sunk. She broke the unspoken agreement between them. Nobody is supposed to know of their little secret. How did they know? They were careful, weren’t they? “How…?” she started.

               Claudette sat next to her. “In the cornfield, when I ‘saved’ you from having your arm bitten through. I lied. I saw what was happening. He was kissing it, not hurting you. It wasn’t something I was supposed to see, so I didn’t tell anyone till now. I’ve seen the bruises Meg…”

               David stood in front of her with his arms crossed. He said, “And Ace says that when the two of you were in the locker and he found you, he said that it went after Ace even though you were between him the Trapper. He said the monster was _jealous_ and looked at you the whole time.”

                Meg’s face flushed. It felt like she was back in high school when her mom found out about secret boyfriend of hers and lectured her about it. Her arms twisted in her lap. “This… this is so embarrassing,” she gasped.

               Claudette put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. We’re going to help you. We’re all desperate to escape the trials, but you shouldn’t let him take advantage of you in order to escape.”

               Meg’s mouth dropped open. She shot up out of her seat. “It’s not like that! You think he was… so I could escape? My relationship with Evan is nothing like that! It’s none of your fucking business!”

               David’s gaze darkened. “Okay, then what is it like? Huh? You fuck _Evan_ willingly and he let’s you get away while we all scramble in fear? Fucking whore. _Evan_.” Dwight gasped at the statement.

               Meg’s hand shot out on instinct and connected with David’s face with a forceful slap to the cheek. David’s cheek turned bright red. “Don’t you _ever_ call me that again, you hear me?” She seethed at him. She turned to everyone sitting around the campfire. “He’s my soulmate.”

               Dwight gasped again. David’s eyes widened. Jake’s eyebrow quirked, looking mildly interested. Rage crossed Nea’s features, and she finally spoke up after being quiet throughout the whole confrontation. She shoves Meg unceremoniously. “Soulmates, huh? That really says something about you, considering you guys are meant for each other. You gonna pull a knife on us and kill us like your murderer boyfriend?”

               “What—” Meg tried to say, but Nea shoved her again.

               “Nea, stop it! Let’s just talk this out!” Claudette shrieked.

               “Shut up, Claudette.” Nea barks. She shoves Meg again, harder this time. “I’ll do what I want to this bitch—”

               Meg tripped over her own feet after being shoved by Nea. She fell to the ground into a pile of scrap parts from med kits and toolboxes. She felt a sharp stab through her stomach and cried out in pain. Looking down, she discovered a metal rod poking through her side. All the way through. Blood pooled around the wound, ruining her sweater. Meg didn’t scream, her mouth only fell open in shock.

               “Oh my god, Meg!” Claudette screamed. Nea looked equally shocked. Claudette was still screaming. “Help her, Nea!”

               Nea put her arm out to help Meg off of the metal rod. Nea was babbling about how sorry she was. The others were crowding around her now. Meg swatted Nea’s hand away. “I don’t need your fucking help. _Back off_.” Meg wheezed. She put her arms underneath herself and pushed herself up off the rod. Slowly, she unpinned herself from the rod, grimacing the whole time.

               Meg screamed as the rod ripped out of her. Clutching a hand to her stomach, her fingers felt wet with blood. She stumbled while getting up, coughing. Dwight buried his face into David’s chest. Nobody spoke.

               Claudette came to her side. “Meg, come, let’s get you fixed up, okay? This conversation can wait.”

               “No,” Meg hissed. “I’m leaving, I don’t want to be in the company of people who think I’m nothing but a whore.”

               Claudette tugged on her arm. “You’re bleeding! You won’t get far… please Meg.”

               “Goodbye Claudette,” Meg said. Clutching the wounds where the metal rod entered and exited her, she stumbled off into the forest to find Evan. _God, this hurts so bad,_ she thought. It reminded her of being hooked.

               Nobody came after her, which she was thankful for. Crows cawed around her as she grew deeper into the forest. She hobbled as fast as she could with her injured side, making blood splatter against the ground. “Evan!” She called out when she was sure the survivors wouldn’t hear her voice. “Evan! Help!” She hoped he was at his shack.

               The shack appeared in sight. Crossing the clearing she fell to the ground and cried out in pain. “Evan, it’s me! Please come out!” She croaked weakly. The pain was almost to much.

               The door burst open and out stomped Evan. His eyes found her form on the ground through the mask and he rushed to her side immediately, scooping her off of the ground. “Who did this to you?” He asked, voice low.

               “It doesn’t matter. I was shoved, fell over. They found out about us, Evan.” She winced as he put her down on the cot. “What do I do?”

               Evan went searching for some bandages. “Nothing for now, I’m not letting you go back there. Just stay with me, okay?” He brought back the bandages and kneeled at her side. He helped her peel off her ruined sweater, so she was just in a sports bra. “Tell me what to do to help you.”

               “It needs pressure. Press down on it.” She said. Evan took some of the bandages and pressed down on both wounds. Meg wailed. “Keep doing that, I-I’ll be fine.”

               The blood soaked through the bandages easily. Evan growled. “It’s not working, there’s too much blood. I don’t know what to do.” He sounded a second away from panic.

               Meg put a hand on his arm, smearing red onto it. “Get more bandages, find stitches if you can. I’m gonna be fine.”

               Evan moved to get more bandages when the door slammed open. Both Meg and Evan turned their heads to see who entered, eyebrows raised. The Nurse floated in, one foot off of the ground. She wasn’t carrying her bonesaw however. It was hard to tell if she was surprised or not, considering the hood over her face.

               The Nurse screeched, “What the hell is going on here?!”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some unexpected help, some fluff, some smut, and a new plan. 
> 
> (Also, we're going to ignore that Meg dropped out of college to help take care of her mother, because I honestly forgot. Oops. And some of the details I've written -dates, names, locations- aren't canon and from my own imagination.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> First off let me APOLOGIZE for not updating for a million years. Last time I updated, it was the end of August, I believe, and school was starting up again and I had a few other things that I was dealing with at the time as well. I told myself I would keep updating the story, but time just kept flying by. I recently looked back, and saw that people were still reading and commenting in 2019 and I was like woah! people still haven't just forgotten about this lol. I just knew that I needed to start writing again. I haven't even been writing other things on my own since I've stopped updating this story, so I think it's time to get back into the swing of things.   
> I'm going to try and update more regularly (and stop making excuses), I promise!  
> Enjoy the chapter! It's a big one, 5.4k words.

               “Leave, Sally,” Evan ordered, standing in front of Meg, who had turned as white as Ace’s teeth. “This isn’t any of your business.” His bulk almost completely covered her from sight.

               It looked like Sally was looking at Meg, but it was hard to tell with the hood on. Without the hood, Meg would have noticed Sally was grinning. “Oh, this is _so_ my business, Trapper. This is the most interesting thing to happen around here in… well the entire time I’ve lived in this shithole.” The Nurse closed the door behind her, coming closer. Meg whimpered in pain as Sally inspected her. “She’s injured.”

               “You think I don’t know that!” Evan huffed. He spread his arms out as she came even closer. Sally’s tattered dress fluttered as she floated close to the cot. It was blackened at the edges, like it hadn’t been washed in ages. It probably hadn’t. The hood was cleaner, but still eerie. Meg wasn’t sure where the Nurse was looking at any given time.

               Sally glided over to Evan’s med kit, plucking out a needle and a roll of stitches. “Here, let me help.”

               Meg was terrified, she looked to Evan for help, who was looking at Sally in anger. “No! Don’t come near her.” Evan almost yelled.

               “You idiot, your giant clumsy hands won’t accomplish anything. She’ll bleed to death before you figure out how to hold the needle properly.” Sally argued.

               Evan still looked skeptical. It was obvious that he didn’t trust her.

               “Please, Evan,” Meg whispered. “If she wants to help, let her. This really hurts.”

               “I had a soulmate once too, you know.” Sally said to Evan. “My husband Andrew. But, that was long ago.”

               Evan gave her an incredulous look. “How did you kn—”

               Sally laughed. “Phillip told me. For a man who can’t talk, he _loves_ to gossip. Well, only to me, since none of the others are into the business of making friends. Plus, you’ve been a lot more likable lately, and soulmates usually do that to people.”

               Evan sighed and put a hand over his mask. Meg shrugged her shoulders. “Fine,” he said. “But, the next time I see Phillip we’ll see how ‘likable’ I can be…”

               Sally ignored him and brought herself close to Meg, setting aside the stitches. “What’s your name, dear?” Sally said soothingly.

               “Meg. It’s not short for Megan or anything either.”

               “Well Meg, I’m Sally,” the Nurse said.

               “Nice to meet you.”

               Sally snapped her fingers, “You. I need a cloth. Or bandages. Preferably clean.”

               Evan grunted, “Me?”

               “Yes you, stupid! Hurry up now!” Sally barked. He gave her some fresh bandages. “Sit up please dear. Good. Now hold these down on your front, and I’ll get Evan to press down on your back while I clean up the blood.”

               While Sally was working, they talked. “Now, I’ve known Evan for a while longer then you have Meg, but I have never been able to coax a name out of him.” Sally said. Evan bristled beside her. “Don’t worry, it suits you better than Trapper.”

               “He’s not much of a talker sometimes.” Meg added. She could see his eyes rolling through the mask.

               “I talk,” he said.

               “Ehhhh,” Sally muttered. “Besides threats and swears, not really.”

               “I do!”

               After a couple of bandage changes, the bleeding finally slowed. Sally made sure to clean more around the wound before getting the stitches out again. “See look, it’s not even that big. Just a lot of blood.” Sally said brightly. “Let’s get to stitching you up. Bite down on this,” She said, and handed Meg a rag.

               Meg’s eyes widened. “Is it going to hurt that bad?”

               “We don’t have anesthetic or numbing gel. It will at least pinch.” Said Sally. “Only for a few seconds.”

               As the needle went in she let out a pained grunt into the rag. Meg’s hand grabbed Evan’s forearm in a tight grip and squeezed. It felt like her wound was on fire. “Fuck,” she groaned into the cloth.  But, Sally was a true professional. Her hands did quick work with the stitches. _In. Out. In. Out._ Until the front part was closed up. She tied the knot easily and cut off the extra string. Meg would have been impressed, but she was still shocked that this fearsome killer who had hunted her in trials many times was helping her.

               “Time for your back now, dear. Just a little more.” Sally soothed. Meg felt the same kind of sensation as Sally stitched up her back as she did in the front. She swore into the rag again.

               “Ok, all good now.” Sally then wrapped bandages all the way around her body. The Nurse stood. “The stitches will need to be removed at some point, but not for a while. I’ll come back later to check and see if there’s anymore bleeding.”

               “Great,” Meg said. “Thank you.” 

               "Wait up," Evan said. "I want to talk to you, Sally. Outside."

               "Sure," the Nurse replied.

               The two of them went outside and talked for a few minutes, speaking in subdued voices. From what Meg could gather in her position on the bed, it seemed that Evan was almost threatening the Nurse while she was giving him reassurances. "You better," He heard him grunt. 

               He came back inside and shut the door with a soft click. Meg lifted her head to see Evan, who was taking off his mask. He looked upset, and his brows furrowed as he thought. She decided not to ask him what their conversation was about; she didn't want to agitate him more. Obviously, Sally's visit had been stressful for him.

               “What’s the matter, big guy?” Meg asked, propping her head on her elbow, trying not to wince from the pain of her wound. Though, it was becoming less painful by the second.

               “You should be resting,” he said. “Go to bed.” Meg watched him as he pulled out a stool from his workbench, put it in front of the door, and sit down on it.

               Meg pouted. “You should come to bed with me. Aren’t you tired?”

               “I have to keep watch.”

               “But I’m _cooooold_. I need someone to warm me up.” She said, playfully tilting her head to one side and exposing her neck for him to see. A yellowing hickey met his eyes.

               “Then, I’ll get you a blanket.” He said, already moving towards the cupboard to grab one for her. Then, he gently draped it over her. Meg frowned, why was he being so distant all of a sudden?

               “Evan… don’t be angry with me, please. Don’t push me away.” Meg pleaded.

               “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. It’s my fault you were injured. And I don't like the others knowing where you are.”

               Meg grabbed his wrist as he pulled away. “Don’t say that. It was her fault, she did this to me. She chose to react that way.”

               Evan stood there, frowning, but made no effort to remove Meg’s hand from his wrist. “What happened back there?” He said, motioning to her wound.

               “Come sit with me and I’ll tell you,” Meg said, tugging on his wrist.

               Evan turned and looked at the lonely stool in front of the door, then back at Meg. She gave him a smile and tugged again. “Fine,” he mumbled, his resolve finally breaking. Meg almost jumped aside to make room for him. Evan sat down so his back was against the wall, so he could have a proper view of the door and window. Meg curled up into his side and draped her legs over his while he put his arm around her. She was grateful for how warm he was.

               “They thought you were taking advantage of me as an exchange for letting me escape. They thought you were… abusing me. I told them that it was nothing like that, it was none of their business. David called me a whore for that.”

               Evan growled. “He has no right. David is the one who… has an English accent?”

               “Yeah that’s him. Then I said you were my soulmate. Nea didn’t like that.”

               “Nea?” he asked.

               “Yeah, the girl with the black hair and the side of her head shaved. She came right at me and kept shoving me. Everyone was yelling for her to stop, but she didn’t. I fell into a pile of scrap and this mess happened.” She motioned to her bandages, then let her arm settle around his waist. “Just… don’t treat them any different in the trials, okay? They are in their right to be angry.”

               “I understand. How does it feel now?”

               “I barely feel it, oddly enough,” she laughed.

               “Good.”

               As the conversation fell into silence, Meg leaned into Evan even more, while still not pressing on her wound. He still smelled like smoke and pine, but right now it was less smoke than pine. “You smell good. Can I wear your shirt?” She wanted to smell like him.

               Evan complied because he thought she wanted it because she still was on in a sports bra since Sally’s makeshift surgery. “Sure?” he said. Excited, she unlatched from his side so he could remove his grey t-shirt. Watching his skin be revealed was almost mesmerizing. Meaty arms surrounded her as he slipped the shirt over her head and helped her with the arm holes. Evan’s shirt was massive on her, but she didn’t mind. It was already baggy enough so that it wouldn’t get caught on the hooks coming from his skin, and on her it looked like a dress. There was a tiny hole in the neckline, and the hem was frayed. It was perfect. Burying her nose in the fabric, she took a whiff of the faint scent of pine.

               “Good?” he asked after she settled into his side once again. Bruises peaked out from the large neckline. Evan licked his lips as he stared at them. Something stirred deep in his belly. His soulmate, with his marks, wearing his shirt, seeking him for protection. The sight was messing with his brain. Meg gazed at him with the faintest smile on her lips. She knew exactly how she was making him feel.

               “Yeah.” She began tracing the scars on his bare skin as Evan continued to stare at her. Every so often, his eyes would dart to the door. Meg wanted his full attention, though. So, she started dragging her fingers across his stomach and chest, and they stopped right above his heart. She felt it beating. It was steady, yet heavy. Strong. She lay her hand flat across it. “You know, you should get a tattoo here. I mean, if you could.”

               “A tattoo?”

               “Yeah, a bird or a cross or something. You’d look great with any ink on your skin honestly.”

               “Wait, a tattoo?” For Evan, tattoos weren’t common things to see on people in his time. He never thought about getting one, well simply because there weren’t any places that you could go to get one. It seemed a bit strange to him that she was mentioning one to him.

               “Yeah?”

               “When were you born?” he asked suddenly. Were tattoos commonplace from where she was from?

               Meg lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. She felt like she knew him intimately, yet they were strangers. He didn’t know anything about her really; he didn’t even know her birthday. “July 31, 1995,” she said.

               He paused for a second. “Don’t you mean 1895?” he questioned.

               “1895? What are you talking about?” Their eyes were still locked, brown on brown. “Wait, when were you born then?”

               “I was born January 12, 1859. I think I got here sometime in 1894. I can’t really remember.”

               Meg stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He expected her to comment on how that was possible, how the Entity was plucking them out of different time periods and placing them into this hell, but instead she just giggled: “I didn’t think you were _that_ old.”

               “Watch it,” he growled. “I’m not old. I was thirty-five when I got here. That isn’t old.”

               Meg giggled again. Such a lovely sound he thought, even though she was making fun of him. “Well, technically to me you’re a hundred and fifty-seven years old. That’s pretty old.”

               He gave her a look.

               “Don’t look at me like that! I’m just teasing you, baby.”

               He scoffed, but there was smile running across his features. “Oh, so now I’m a baby?”

               She smiled. “No, you doofus. But you’re still old.”

               “Fine then,” he huffed. “When did you get here?”

               Meg thought about that for a second. It seemed so long ago that she went for a run in that forest and never came back. Her memory was hazy. “2016 was when I got here.”

               “What was it like? 2016, I mean.” Evan said. He had a curious look on his face.

               “Crazy. I was in my third year of university. University of Michigan, studying kinesiology and sports medicine. I was completely swamped with work. But, spring break was coming up, I was planning on taking a vacation with my mom. We wanted to go to Aruba.”

               “That’s quite the boat ride.”

               “We weren’t going to go by boat. We bought airplane tickets.”

               He gave her a confused look. He didn’t know what that meant.

               “Oh! Sorry, it’s like… a blimp, but it goes faster. Much faster. You can travel all over the world with them. I can get from Michigan to Aruba in like 3 hours. They fly super high above land too, about 35,000 feet. You can buy a ticket and fly to anywhere in the world.”

               “That’s incredible,” Evan mused.

               “There were also these things called smartphones. You guys had telephones, right?”

               “Yes.”

               “Well it was like a telephone, but you could put it in your pocket. It fit right into the palm of your hand. You could call people, send people text messages –kind of like writing a letter- and take pictures with it. I wish I could show you."

               Evan wasn’t really sure if he believed her, but considering she was born more than 100 years after him, maybe that kind of technology was possible in her time. “Did lots of people get tattoos? That’s not really something people from my time did.”

               “Oh yeah, tons. I wanted one too, but I just didn’t know where. I thought about getting my soulmate’s name above my heart once I found them. Would you have liked that, baby?” She asked him, lips ghosting over his jaw. It was quite a stretch so her lips could reach his. Instead, she settled on kissing across the skin of his strong neck, nipping him with her teeth every so often. Not so subtly, her hand traced across his belt buckle.

               It was hard for Evan to think straight when she was doing this. He wasn't thinking with his head. He tried to contemplate an answer, but came short. Teeth bit into his shoulder when he took too long to reply. Evan almost gasped at the sensation, feeling his cock perk up in interest. “My name?” he choked out.

               “Yes, _Evan_ right here,” she pointed at her heart. “Forever. Wouldn’t you like that?”

               He wasn’t sure what to say. Voice almost cracking, he settled on a breathy “Yes.”

               Meg climbed on his lap with a smirk. “Of course you would. You don’t like it when other people touch what’s yours. You need them to know to keep their hands off.” Her hands wrapped around his neck; her face was close. He could feel their breaths mingling. Lips almost touching, barely brushing. Meg’s nose bumped his.

               “You’re mine, and mine only.” Evan said and moved to capture her lips in a kiss, but Meg pulled back. There was a cheeky smile on her face. Evan released a low noise. “Come on, don’t tease me.”

               She ignored him. Her mouth parted, and her tongue traced her lips. Driving him mad. She murmured, “If I’m yours, then you must be mine too.”

               “Yours,” he breathed.

               “Mine,” she murmured.

               A hand found the side of his face. Evan leaned down to connect their lips. Finally. They kissed slowly and in sync, working together like two cogs in a machine. She savoured the way he licked into her mouth, almost desperately. It gave away just how much he actually needed this. Meg was glad to be the one to give it to him.

               As they kissed, Evan couldn’t help but feel touched by her words. That she would want to brand herself with his name for eternity. That she would want to be with him for just as long. He tried to convey his feelings through their kisses, because it was impossible for him to speak them out loud without running away in fear. Meg, sensing his desperation, pressed back equally as hard. Soon the kisses turned frantic, and Evan’s massive hands pawed at her shirt.

               “Wait, let me keep it on. I like it.” Meg bunched it around her stomach, on top of the bandages, so she could wriggle out of her leggings. Then, she laid back and spread her legs. The only thing covering her most intimate parts from him was her lacy pink thong, barely a scrap of material. Basically a string. Evan had never seen anything like it, but it instantly became his new favourite thing.

               Evan’s eyes immediately fell between her legs, “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

               She smirked again, tugging her underwear to the side. Her hole was glistening for him. “Then teach me a lesson,” she purred. “Punish me for teasing you.”

               Evan’s patience flew out the window. He moved in between her legs, tugging at his belt. Leaning over her, he started growling in her ear. Telling her all the filthy things he was going to do to her. “I want to bend you in half and fuck you so hard you can’t even see.”

               “Yeah?”

                “Then, I’ll fill you to the brim with my cum.”

               “Fuck,” Meg moaned loudly. “Do it, I want it.”

               In a rush, he rolled her thong down her legs. The underwear was thrown across the room in an instant. He shoved her shirt up her body so it was resting under her chin, and then yanked her sports bra up so her breasts were poking out underneath. His lips latched onto a nipple and sucked. Squirming, Meg cried out. A thick finger plunged into her and she cried even louder. His free hand held her hips down. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once.

               He added another finger, curling them inside her while she gasped his name. “That’s it, don’t hold back,” he grunted.

               “Evan!” she squeaked. “Hurry up and fuck me. I’m ready for it.”

               He ignored her and thrust in another finger, scissoring the three. Pumping them in and out until she was leaving long scratch marks along his arms. “So pretty, so wet. Come.” He commanded.

               She came with a cry, legs quivering and mouth falling open. He stroked her through it till she felt boneless. Pulling his fingers out and brought them to his lips, he licked them. He hummed around his fingers. “Sweet.”

               Meg just whimpered.

               Evan chuckled. His eyes were almost black when he looked at her, only a sliver of brown remained. “Spread your legs now,” He growled. “Let me see you.” Meg obeyed, letting her legs fall open for him again. He grabbed the back of her knees, and pushed them down so her legs were pressed again her chest and her calves rested on his shoulders. Her feet dangled in the air behind his ears. Folded in half, just as he promised.

               Evan shucked off his pants and underwear quickly, then stroked himself a few times before lining himself up. She could feel his dick pressed up against her, rubbing himself on her folds. Not taking the plunge, giving her what she wanted. She tried to buck into him with her hips, but couldn’t because he was holding her in place too tightly. Completely at his mercy.

               “Stop playing! Fuck me, Evan.”

               He shushed her. “You know just how to rile me up, huh? Wearing my shirt and that absolutely sinful underwear, playing your little games. You just can’t get enough of me. Would you really put my name on your body like that or did you just say that to get my cock?”

               “I wasn’t lying,” she gasped. “I would do it.”

               His hand wrapped around her throat. Not with pressure, just there. She gasped again. So much power in his arms, he could just crush her if he desired. “Maybe I should take my cleaver and carve it right into your skin. Everyone would know you belong to a monster.”

               “You’re not—ah!”

               That moment, Evan decided to press forward and slip himself inside her. Meg moaned as he slid in slowly, making her take his cock all the way to the hilt. His face hovered right above hers, and he watched her eyes fall shut in pleasure. The stretch was so good.

               “Happy?” he asked, pulling back and thrusting back in. “You got what you needed?”

               “ _Yes_ , ugh, you’re so deep, Evan. Harder. More.” She panted. Evan pulled out mostly before slamming back in, letting his hips fall and crash into hers. The position made it so he was brushing every nerve when he thrust. “Fuck, so good, baby. Keep going.”

               Evan groaned. He was so keyed up from making Meg come before that he felt he wasn’t going to last very long. Her praises weren’t making it any easier too. Though, he would try and hold off as best he could. He wanted to make her come again. Latching onto her neck, he went to work on sucking another bruise right under her ear. To get even deeper, Evan brought himself off his knees onto his toes, while still pressing her in half and into the mattress. The new angle made the slap of their skin echo through the cabin, maybe the entire forest. Evan didn’t care anymore, let whoever came near hear them make rough and dirty love.

               “Oh! Evan, I’m gonna come again. So close.” She squeaked. Her walls were fluttering around him, and she could feel the pressure building up fast. His bulky arms caged her in so she was forced to look at him. His hips snapped, once, twice, and then she went over the edge. Her walls clenched down on his cock as her hips shook and bucked into him for more. She yelled and saw white, but Evan refused to slow down. Somewhere in her haze, a thumb brushed a bit of drool from her lips.

               Evan went back to his knees and started thrusting less deep, but quicker. It seemed that was close too. Meg just let her legs fall aside so he could take what he wanted. After a few last thrusts, he stilled inside her, and pumped his seed deep. Course breathes warmed her neck as he buried his face near her collarbone. She felt his balls twitch against her, and his warm cum filled her up.

               Evan unhooked her legs from over his arms, then lay on top of her. Her legs were left wide open so he could keep himself in between them, and his cock stuffed inside her. They lay there for a few minutes, kissing slowly, before Evan pushed himself up off her, and slowly pulled his cock out. She noted he had that look of fire in his eyes like when they had sex the first time. It made her shudder. Meg went to sit up when Evan held her by the shoulder to stop her.

               “Wait,” he said seriously. Both his hands found their way between her legs to where some of his seed was oozing out of her. Two fingers dragged the line of cum back up to her hole and were stuffed back into her.

               Meg jerked. “Ah! Evan, omigod.”

               He smirked at her, but didn’t cease. His eyes remained glued to his fingers stuffing his cum back into her hole. “Sensitive, huh?” he laughed.

               “Yeah, no shit,” Meg said, holding back a moan.

               With the smirk still on his face, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her clit and took a long lick. “Oh fuck!” Meg cried when he delved his tongue inside. She could feel his smile against her hole. “Evan, stop. That’s so gross!”

               Once he was satisfied, he left her lying on the bed. He wiped his lips off on his arm and went to retrieve his pants. After putting them on, he plucked her skimpy underwear off the floorboards. “I really like these, maybe I should keep them,” he said, holding her thong up with both hands.

               Meg rolled her eyes. “Give them back, you weirdo. I barely have any underwear at all as it is.”

               Evan smiled and climbed into bed with her. Gently, he took both her ankles in his hands and helped her slip on her underwear. “Rest now, Meg,” he said with a kiss to her forehead. They fell into the mattress together, and Evan opened up his arms for her roll into. Meg shoved her nose into his neck and a leg between his to create a tangled mess of limbs. His arm settled around her waist. Protecting her.

               “That was really good. I like it when you take control like that,” she mumbled.

               “Whatever makes you happy.”

               “Good night, Evan.”

               “Sleep well,” he whispered into her hair.

***

               When Sally finally came back to the shack to check on Meg’s bandages, she found Evan (who was wide awake) holding Meg (who was very asleep) close to his chest. Evan barely noticed when Sally glided in, he was too busy watching Meg dream. There was a faint smile across his lips, though Sally couldn’t see it because he had put his mask back on. At some point, Evan had gently pulled the elastics out of the ends of her messy braids, and watched how her stunning red hair fell across her shoulders. Her hair was curly from being braided for so long. Occasionally, he would brush his fingers through it.

               “Trapper,” Sally addressed him.

               “Nurse.”

               “How is she?”

               “Tired, but well, I think. She hasn’t mentioned her stitches at all.” Evan tried to speak quietly, so he wouldn’t wake Meg.

               “Good.” To Sally, it was jarring to see this beast of a man delicately tending to someone who was so much smaller than him. This man, who was the Entity’s oldest and most fearsome killer, running his hands through a survivor’s hair, and whispering so she wouldn’t wake up.  

               Sally took a moment to look around the shack. Meg’s leggings were thrown haphazardly across the floor, she was wearing Evan’s shirt (while he was lacking one), and her hair was a complete disaster. The little bed seemed to have moved a few inches across the floor as well.

               “Trapper, did you two just have sex?” Sally exclaimed. When he said nothing, she threw her hands up. “Lord, you did! Do you know how bad that is for stitches!” She grabbed a roll of bandages from the worktable and threw them at his head. It missed. “I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid. Do you even want her to get better?”

               “What?” Meg mumbled, still sleepy. She hadn’t heard anything until now. When she opened her eyes, the Nurse was looming over Evan and her.

               “Let me see your bandages,” Sally snapped.

               Meg moved out of Evan’s lap. “Wait,” she said. “Let me get some pants on first.”

               “Just leave it, let me see.”

               “Okay,” Meg said, and pulled off Evan’s shirt. She felt a little uncomfortable being left in nothing but her underwear under the scrutinous gaze of this hooded woman. But Sally was a nurse, so she had probably seen many naked people in her line of work. If she had in fact been a nurse before becoming one of the Entity’s toys. In general, Meg was a bit dubious on the Nurse’s previous work experience, but went along with it anyway.

               Sally inspected her carefully. The bandages on her back looked fine, but there was a considerable amount of blood on the ones in the front. “It looks like you popped a stitch,” the Nurse tutted. “I’ll need to fix it.”

               Meg consented, and soon Sally got to her work. Meg watched carefully as Sally stitched her back up. She thought it would probably be important to pay attention, because perhaps one day Sally might not be around to take care of bigger wounds. Or Evan’s wounds. He was probably more likely to hurt himself than she, so Meg wanted to make sure she knew how to properly care for her soulmate. Evan was across the room, giving them space. He focused on tidying his workspace for a lack for something better to do, but often stole glances back at his soulmate.

               Meg felt curious. “Sally, why doesn’t it hurt? I didn’t even feel it bleeding. Even right now it doesn’t hurt as bad to stitch it up like before.” She explained.

               “Oh, that would be the Entity’s doing. They lessen the pain when you are out of a trial, and make you heal faster. But, you still have to take care of yourself, clean the wound, stich and bandage yourself if it’s big enough.”

               “That makes sense, I guess.” Meg said.

               Sally finished soon after, and wrapped more bandages around her to stop any future bleeding.

               “Thanks.” Meg smiled at the Nurse. The both of them got up. Meg quickly put Evan’s shirt back on. It fell back in place, around the middle of her thigh.

               “No problem.”

               Meg couldn’t help but ask her the question that had been on her mind the entire time. When Evan was furthest away, she asked in a soft voice, “Why are you helping me?” This was the second time a killer chose to help her and Evan, instead of kill her.

               “I’m not sure. But, this feels different for some reason. Soulmates are destined to come together and be a perfect match, as you probably know. A killer and survivor meant to be together sounds unlikely, but it still means it was meant to be. Soulmates and soul marks is a power that even the Entity can’t control. To me at least, it seems like a sign of change to come. Good change. Why would I want to ruin that?”

               Meg contemplated Sally’s words. “Maybe.” Evan’s eyes met hers from across the room, and when she smiled at him she could see his smile underneath the mask. Even under the wood, Meg could tell he had tender look on his face reserved only for her. Sally’s gaze followed Meg’s.

               “You’ve got him wrapped right around your little finger,” Sally muttered.

               Evan came over to them. At some point, he had found another shirt, this time a tank top. He came to stand behind Meg, and put a hand on her elbow. “Everything alright?” he inquired, while looking down at his soulmate.

               “Great,” Meg said, meeting his eyes. “Thank you again, Sally.”

               “Okay, well I’m going to head back now.” Sally told them, heading for the door. “Evan, let me know if you two need anymore help. Nice to meet you, Meg.” The Nurse opened the door to leave, but before she left, she paused in the doorway. “Also, no more sex until you’re better!” Then, she left.

               Meg’s face went bright red, and she turned to Evan and put her head into his chest. Like a headbutt. Evan chuckled, running a hand through her messy red hair. “Cute,” he laughed.

               “That’s so embarrassing! How did she know?”

               “She’s very observant,. But, I don’t mind.”

               Meg scoffed and headbutted him again, then asked: “So, what’s our plan now? Do you think I should go back to my campfire?”

               “No. I don’t want you near the survivors, at least for a while. No more trials either, as long as you stay with me.”

               “Okay,” Meg said. Though to her, that seemed a little unfair. How could she not have to endure any trials when her friends had to? Just because her soulmate was a killer and because some of them had betrayed her didn't mean that she didn't have to participate in the trials. She had betrayed them as well, by revealing her soulmate as a killer. Even though she was a bit unhappy with the decision, she went along with Evan's plan.

               “I think we should get you somewhere safer. Some of the others know about this place, and I don’t like that. You need to be somewhere that I can leave you when I go to a trail, and at the same time know that nobody will walk in uninvited.” Evan explained.     

               “What do you have in mind?”

               “There are some parts of my estate that aren’t being used during trials. Like the manor. I say we go there. It’s much more comfortable than this tiny shack, as well.”

               “Okay, whatever you think is best.”

               “You’ll like it, I think. It’s very nice.”

               “Why not live there now instead of here?”

               Evan paused for a second before answering. “Bad memories.”

               “Well, then we will just have to make new ones. Together.”

               “Together.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some old memories, and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had parts of this written for a while now, but couldn't complete it because I got a concussion! Just looking at the screen made my brain want to explode but now I'm back. 
> 
> Enjoy some soft Evan.

For as long as Evan could remember, he wanted to meet his soulmate. When he was just 4-years-old he made sure to check each and every single day if his soul-mark had appeared. What kind of words would tattoo themselves upon his skin? What would his love’s first words be to him? But his biggest question of all was: when will my soul-mark appear? Generally, a soul-mark appears on a soulmate’s arm when the soulmate is born. Evan, as he stood on a stool looking at himself in the ornate gold mirror in his parent’s bedroom, knew that his soul mark hadn’t appeared yet because his soulmate wasn’t born. He would be patient, even though he wanted a soul-mark _now_.

               And Evan was patient. For a while.

               His friend John got his soul-mark when he was two. During their first-grade days at prep school, while playing in the sand and getting their knees scraped and uniforms dusty, Evan asked John about his soul-mark.

               “What does it say?” little 6-year-old Evan asked, pointing a sandy finger at John’s arm.

               John turned to him with an excited look. “I can’t really read all the words, but my mama says it says ‘Excuse me, do you know the way to the nearest general store? It seems I’ve lost my way.’ She’s going to ask me for directions.”

               Evan was beyond impressed. Though he was sure John wouldn’t meet his soulmate for a while. Asking for directions seemed like a very adult thing to say, thought little Evan. That night he went home, bouncing with energy. When one of the maids tried to tuck him in for bed, he refused to go to sleep. The maid called for his mother.

               “What’s wrong, Evan?” his mother, Irene, asked. “Sophia told me that you were giving her a hard time. It’s bedtime, dear, you need to go to sleep now.”

               “Mama when will my soul-mark appear?”

               His mother sighed. Not this again. “You have to be patient, it takes time.”

               “But I want to meet her now!”

               “I’m sure you do. But wait a little longer, it takes time for it to appear.”

               “When did dad’s soul mark appear for you, mama?”

               “Your father is a few years older than me, so I’ve always had the mark. We met right after my sixteenth birthday. I ran into him at the bank of all places. We got married that summer.”

               “When is father coming home, mama?” Evan asked. “I want to ask him about soulmates.”

               Evan’s mother sighed again. Archie was always on business trips to scout out different mining properties for the business. Right now, he scouring the mountains of Idaho. Always on the hunt for iron, Archie’s trips sent him far and wide, and far from his wife and only son. Little Evan barely saw him at all. Irene loved Archie with all her heart, but it upset her that he was never home to watch his only son grow up.

               “I’m not sure, but you can send him a letter in the morning. For now, it’s time to rest. A growing boy needs his sleep!”

               Satisfied with Irene’s answers, Evan said: “Ok, good night,” and promptly turned over to fall asleep.

               Irene bent down to kiss his brow. “Patience, Evan. You’re very young, there’s lots of time.”

               Evan’s soul-mark still hadn’t appeared after he finished eighth grade. That’s fine, thought twelve-year-old Evan, it’s not uncommon for couples to have a bit of an age difference. But then it still hadn’t appeared after he finished high school and moved onto university. It still hadn’t appeared after his mother passed away when he was twenty. Pneumonia. He had hoped she would be there when he met his fated match, when they got married. Once again, the luck of life was not on his side.

               So, to distract him from his sorrows, Evan dove into his studies and never looked back. His work was his life and his plan was to join his father’s business after completing his studies. When Evan was 21, John got married to his soulmate Lily. Of course, he attended the wedding, and of course he was happy for his best friend. But, as lovely as John’s wedding was, Evan felt jealous and angry deep down in his chest. During the reception, while many of the couples were dancing, John approached Evan.

               “Hey bud,” John said. “Aren’t you going to dance?”

               “No. I don’t have anyone to dance with,” Evan mumbled.

               “I’m sure there are lots of ladies who would love to be on your arm. Come, I’ll introduce you to some of Lily’s friends. They’ve all been dying to meet my mysterious best man Evan.”

               Evan rolled his eyes. “John, please. Just leave it.” He couldn’t just dance with anyone. Only his soulmate would satisfy him. Dancing with any other girl would feeling like he was cheating on her in some twisted way.

John patted Evan on the shoulder. “Look, my friend. I know you’re waiting for _the one_ , and I’m sure she’s out there somewhere, but why not have some fun on the side while you’re waiting? Just look at you, you could get any woman! And then when your soulmate comes along you won’t be a clueless idiot where women are concerned, eh?”

               Evan wasn’t so sure, but he took his friend’s advice. He began to court other women and had dalliances with some of the girls who came to the balls that were thrown at Macmillan Manor. Most of his relationships were brief, and never lasted. No other lady, as lovely and beautiful as they all were, could fill the empty space in his heart reserved for his soulmate.

               By the time he was 25, Evan had turned cold to the world. He focused only on the family business and gaining his father’s favour. At that point he was convinced that he was a godless creature never destined to have a soulmate, or that he was some creep. If his soulmate was born now, he would be over forty years old once there were of age, and nearing the end of his life. A young girl didn’t deserve that. But instead, he just kept getting older and older, and no mark ever appeared. The iron industry kept him busy. The countless meetings, trips, and documents to read over and sign forced the painful thoughts of love from his head, until eventually he forgot altogether.

               Evan could tell that in his father’s old age, Archie’s mind was starting to deteriorate. His father’s requests became less and less sane, and more and more sinister. Archie would order Evan to do outrageous things because he became increasing suspicious that his workers were trying to get at his fortune. And Evan obeyed. Every single order, every firing, every wage decrease, Evan always followed through with his father’s demands. Because Evan idolized his father: Archie had not become a successful iron tycoon sitting on a mountain of riches by doing nothing, and Evan wanted to become just like him. But, deep down in his heart he also wanted that fatherly love he so desperately craved as a child and never got, for someone to fill the loneliness in his chest with life. Evan’s feelings went numb, except the faint tinkling happiness that his father’s praises gave him.

               The day that Archie ordered his son to take hundreds of miners down into the caves and slaughter them, he didn’t hesitate. If he did this one final task for his father, maybe his heart would feel whole again. He planted the dynamite and awaited his father’s orders.

               When the orders came, Evan lit the fuse without a second thought. He had nobody to live for except his father, and his father was going to pass on soon anyways. He had no other person to rely on, no soulmate, no kids, nothing.

               The blast was huge. Nobody escaped alive. Evan himself barely made it out. He vaguely remembered touching the right side of his face and his hand coming back crimson with blood. Stumbling back to the manor, he found his bedridden father and plucked him from his chamber.

               “What did you make me do, father!” Evan remembered screaming at the frail Archie, though it felt as if he wasn’t in control of his body anymore. Then he took his father and locked him in the basement of a warehouse, leaving him for dead.

               He guessed that the wounds he sustained in the blast finally knocked him out at some point.

               He woke up in the Entity’s realm. Then given the task to murder, over and over again, reliving his father’s wishes forever. Evan struggled against the Entity for the first little while, but eventually submitted the creature will after what felt like eons of torture. Evan MacMillan died, and the Trapper was born.

               At some point his soul mark appeared. _What are you looking at, you sick freak?_ it said in bold black letters across his forearm. But Evan found no joy in the words, just looking at them put a bad taste in his mouth. Even his fated thought he was disgusting, perverted. Plus, there was no possibility of ever finding his soulmate while he was stuck in the Entity’s playhouse, so why be happy? This was just another sick joke this world had bestowed upon him.

               He had found no delight while living in the Entity’s realm until Meg finally had come along and uttered those words that would forever tie them together.

***

               Fleeting memories danced across Evan’s mind when they stood in front of the giant Neo-Romanesque mansion, but none stayed. Made of faded stone brick, the Macmillan Manor stood proudly, sporting three floors, massive wooden doors and hundreds of windows. Archways decorated the sides and hexagonal spires sprouted out of the top. Meg was in awe. Evan hated it.

               “You _lived_ here?” Meg asked, an incredulous crossing her face. Never had she knew someone who owned a house even half as big as the colossal stone monster that stood in front of them.

               “Yes,” Evan said.

               “That’s nuts! My mom and I lived in a two-bedroom bungalow with barely enough room for the both of us.”

               “I think I would have preferred that over this as a child. It never really felt like a home.” He remarked as they reached the ornate front door that was twice Meg’s height. A large brass knocker was nailed to it; a brown ring hanging out of a wolf’s mouth.

               “I think I have the key somewhere,” he said, searching his bag for it. They had taken basically everything from the shack, most of it fitting in two big sacks that Evan carried over his shoulder. One for his traps and tools, and the other for personal items. “Here it is,” he said, pulling out the key. He slipped it into the lock and cracked open the door.

               Evan held the door open for her. Meg stepped inside. She was greeted by a dark, expansive space lit only by a few streams of moonlight filtering through the shuttered windows. A long, curved staircase stood in front of her, leading up to the second floor. A chandelier hung above them, glinting in the moonlight. It seemed as though everything was covered in a layer of dust for disuse. White sheets covered the furniture.

               Evan shut the door and they were shrouded in darkness. He sighed, dropped his bags and took off his mask. “This is it,” he stated.

               Meg looked at him. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were trained on the ground. “Are you okay?” she asked, hesitance in her voice. The expansive darkness accentuated how worn he looked.

               “Fine,” he replied. “Let’s go upstairs.” He grabbed the bag with his clothes in it and lead the way. Meg followed, feeling brushed off.

               They walked up the marble staircase and up to the second floor, which began as a balcony overlooking the entrance way. Another grand hallway led them further into the house; it seemed never ending. Chestnut doors lined the walls, as well as framed photographs of paintings of people Meg couldn’t even begin to identify. She wondered if Evan was in any of the photographs, or his father. Eventually, they passed some double doors shaped like an arch, but Evan ignored them and led her deeper still. The master bedroom, Meg supposed.

               Finally, they reached door at the end of a smaller hallway. Evan produced another key and unlocked the door. Inside there was a cozy bedroom. A queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room against one wall with a fireplace opposite to it. The ceiling was high, but sloped down because the roof was above them. On that slope there was a single domed skylight, letting in moonlight.

               Evan set his bag down on the floor. “We can stay here, it’s more hidden than the other bedrooms, plus there’s this,” he said, and made his way to one of the bookshelves embedded in the wall. He pushed on it, and it swung backway like a door. Behind the bookshelf there was a dark passageway, a secret exit. “Just in case,” he reassured.

               “Cool,” Meg said, sitting down on the bed. Though currently bare, it felt comfortable. “I like this room.”

               “This used to be my bedroom as a child, actually,” he explained under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “When making a copy of the real manor for this realm, the Entity kind of threw everything together randomly. Some of the rooms are completely empty, and some have things from other places, but this one is almost the same as before… it’s like I’m back there.”

               “Yeah, I get that,” she said. She really didn’t know what to say to all this new and incredibly personal information, but she felt thankful that he was sharing it with her. “It hurts a lot.”

               “Yeah.” He looked to the floor again. “I’m fine though. I should probably go get some shee—"

               She interrupted him. “Evan, you’re not fine. Come here. Sit.” Meg pat the spot beside her.

               He looked up her. “Okay.”

               The bed dipped when he sat down beside her. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, resting her head on his chest. Evan sat still, like he’d never received a hug in his life. It didn’t matter to Meg though, she would stop at nothing to make him feel better. “You can tell me anything, you know? Whatever you’re feeling, I’m here for you.” she whispered. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I can protect you too.”

               There was no response from Evan, but she could almost hear him thinking about what he was going to say next. They sat in silence for a while, listening to each other breathing. Eventually, Evan wrapped his arms around Meg and squeezed. Pressing his face into her hair, he muttered something.

               “What was that?” she asked him. 

               “There are… things I need to tell you about, but I’m not… I can’t…”

               She shushed him. “It’s fine.”

               “I’m sorry.”

               “Don’t be. Whenever you’re ready I’m right here.”

               Evan shifted so Meg was fully in his lap, holding onto her tight. Moonlight shone through the skylight and onto her face, making her eyes sparkle. He looked at Meg in reverence as he tucked one of her stray hairs behind her ear. Their foreheads touched. “You always know what to say,” he mumbled.

               “I just have a knack for knowing how you’re feeling.”

               “I think you’re the only person who will ever understand me, Meg. You make me feel complete.”

               She smiled. “Evan…”

               “It’s true. You’re my soulmate, my other half. Without you I’m nobody.”

               Meg flushed red at his comments. “Stop…” she laughed, though secretly she wanted him to continue. Where was this coming from all of a sudden, she wondered.

               He gave her a brief grin before touching his lips to hers. After a quick kiss Meg chased his lips for more but he pulled back. He flashed her another smile. “You make me so happy, you don’t even know. Even if the sun came out now, after who knows how long without it, that feeling would never live up to the feeling I get when I see you.”

               “Yeah?”

               “Yeah. You’re my angel,” he breathed. Then suddenly, he looked at her with so much seriousness in his eyes that Meg was taken aback. “Meg, I love you,” he blurted.

               She was stunned. “You do?”

               “I’m pretty sure I always have.”

               This time, Meg kissed him, putting both hands on his face and yanking him in. They fell into the sheet-less mattress; Evan lay back on his elbows while she straddled him. They kissed like they would never see each other again, mouths plastered together. The moon and the expansive sky above were the only witnesses to the silent promises passed between their lips. Desperate hands roamed all over. Thick fingers traversed through her coppery hair, pulling out one of her braids. The other braid followed just behind. Silky red waves poured over Evan’s fingers.

               He pulled back to breathe. “I love you,” he repeated, twirling the rusty strands over his knuckles.

               Meg’s lips parted as she gazed down at Evan. Looking into his eyes, she could tell he was being serious. Nimble hands traced the sides of his face, the scar over his lip, his jaw. “I love you too, Evan,” she confessed. “And you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready.”

               His voice was soft. “Okay.”

               Meg smiled, and he couldn’t help but melt in her hands. He had been alone for so long before, but now he had her. When she held him, or kissed him, or even just looked at him all his problems seemed to just disappear. He was a different man now because of her.  Ever since Meg had come along, he had been feeling things he hadn’t felt in a long time. Right now, he felt happiness, almost overwhelmingly so. He grinned back.

               “What are you thinking about?” she asked, noting the love shining in his eyes.

               “You,” he supplied. “That’s all I ever think about lately.”

               She shoved him playfully, rolling her eyes. “You’re a complete cheeseball, you understand? When did you become such a romantic?”

               “I always was, way down deep. You just seem to bring out the best in me.”

               She chuckled. “Is this your plan to get into my pants?”

               Eyes widening, he raised his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

               A quick bark of laughter escaped her. “Come here, you big idiot,” she smiled into another kiss. Her hands ran down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. It popped easily, and Meg pulled his zipper down. Her sly smile flashed in the moonlight and her hands danced like lightning. “Get these off already.”

               “No, no, no, you first,” he said. Heavy hands rested on her slim hips, thumbing the waistband of her leggings. She could feel the rough calluses and scars brush across her skin.

               “ _Fiiiine_ ,” she said. Quickly, she ripped off her t-shirt while Evan’s hands crawled up her back to pull off her sports bra. It slipped over her head and Evan dropped it to the floor. Goosebumps covered her pale skin. She ran her hands through her hair and gazed down at him, licking her lips, trying to entice him. But his eyes seemed to be focused somewhere else, for some reason.

               Meg touched his face, but he didn’t react. His eyes were looking somewhere over her shoulder.

               “Evan, hello? What’s wrong?”

               “Trial,” he gasped. “I’m being called. I need to go.”

               “Um, okay. Now?”

               “Yes.” Abruptly, he tossed her off, springing up from the bed in a hurry. His jeans were done up in a second and he raced to the door. “Stay here, in the house. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

               Meg, with her t-shirt now covering her chest, looked bewildered as Evan left the room in a flurry. The door was shut before she could even say goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> This is my first fic on ao3 or anywhere, so hopefully it isn't too terrible so far! I love the Trapper and I love Meg so I decided to write something about the two :) Also, I'm not sure what happened with the indenting, and it was wayyy too much effort to try and change, sorry.
> 
> Hope everyone has a great day!


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